


Warped Stars

by boasamishipper



Series: Forged in the Stars [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Rewrite, F/M, Finn-centric, Force-Sensitive Finn, Friends to Lovers, Stormtrooper Culture, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 08:47:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6899176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boasamishipper/pseuds/boasamishipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stormtrooper FN-2187 is sent to infiltrate the Resistance in the hopes of taking it down from the inside. However, things get complicated when he finds himself falling for a scavenger from Jakku along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

FN-2187 is a Stormtrooper, and Stormtroopers have many rules.

There are rules about weapons and fraternization and when to kill and when to maim, but there is one rule that has been ingrained in every Trooper since their first rotation as a cadet.

There are orders, and then there are Orders.

The first category consists of menial things, things that Troopers can ignore without fearing harsh rebukes and retribution. Like oh-three-hundred marches, which are run by very lenient Trooper officers who don't care if a few people skip. Like when a low-ranking non-Trooper officer tells a Trooper to go on bathroom duty for the rest of the week. Like when a cadet lies on the ground in the middle of a battle, pristine white helmet and torso smeared with crimson, and orders a Trooper to leave them behind. Those can all be ignored.

Orders, capital-O, consist of much higher-stakes things. For example, an order comes from a fellow cadet of similar rank and designation and is usually trivial. If Captain Phasma or General Hux or even Kylo Ren give an Order, it doesn't matter whether or not the Trooper in question is sleeping or in sickbay or on their way to reconditioning or on the other side of the base. The Trooper is required to drop everything and run to fulfill the Order given.

FN-2187 knows this well, and it is why all of his commanding officers have always marked him down as _potential officer material_ , the closest thing to a compliment in the Trooper ranks. He follows Orders in battlepreps, in training sessions, during Morning Speeches and Afternoon Speeches and Night Speeches. He even gives Orders sometimes to Nines and Slip and Zeroes during particularly difficult battlepreps. He's twenty-three rotations and by now he knows orders and he knows Orders.

So when Captain Phasma holos him during sanitation duties and tells him to report to General Hux's office immediately, he knows it's an Order, gives his supplies to Nines and leaves.

* * *

General Hux's office is dark, much like its owner, but it's much bigger than the barracks, which he shares with the rest of his squad. He even has his own personal belongings—a desk, a comfortable looking chair, assorted folders, and a window with a view. FN-2187 feels envy well up inside of him, for the only personal belongings he'd had were when he was a cadet and they'd been taken away once he'd been assigned to real training.

Captain Phasma and General Hux are waiting for him there, and he salutes them, as he has been trained to do for as long as he can remember. "At ease," says Captain Phasma, and he stands at attention. "FN-2187, you may be wondering why we have called you here."

 _Yes,_ FN-2187 thinks. _But will you tell me?_

She does. "As you know, FN-2187, the Resistance has been an unfortunate thorn in the side of the First Order for years. Kylo Ren insists that we do something about it."

"Yes, Captain," he says, unsure of what else to say. That of course is because he has no idea what the helmet is going on. Why has he been called in here? What do they want him to do?

"Ren also claims that the Resistance has a map," General Hux says, speaking up for the first time. Ren, he calls him. It'd be an affectionate nickname if it weren't spoken with so much hatred. "A map that leads directly to Luke Skywalker."

It's all FN-2187 can do to remain composed. Luke Skywalker, the savior of the Resistance from thirty years ago. Luke Skywalker, the son of Darth Vader, whom Kylo Ren worships as though he were still living. Luke Skywalker, the last Jedi. Of course he's heard of Luke Skywalker, everyone has. There have always been serious doubts about his existence because no one's seen him in the last few decades or so, but a map that leads directly to him—no wonder Kylo Ren wants it. "Yes General."

"FN-2187, your instructors have always marked you as loyal, dutiful, brave, smart, strong," says Captain Phasma with just a hint of pride in her voice. He stands up straighter, relishing in the implied compliment. "You have always scored in the top one percent of your evaluations and battlepreps."

"Yes, Captain," he answers. It's true, he has. He doesn't see why that's such a big deal—Nines also makes it in the top one percent sometimes, and Zeroes is handy with a blaster and Slip…well, Slip slips up, it's what he does. But what makes him so special?

"Remove your helmet, FN-2187." General Hux's words nearly scare him out of his wits, but after a quick look from Phasma he knows it's an Order and he does as asked. The influx of oxygen makes him light-headed for a moment, and his eyes quickly adjust to the light—even dimmer than he'd thought. General Hux scrutinizes him like a predator analyzes its prey. FN-2187 does not sweat or tear his gaze away, something that makes him immensely proud of himself.

General Hux sniffs and backs away. To Captain Phasma, he says, "He will do."

Captain Phasma nods and comes closer to him. "FN-2187, you have been chosen to go on an undercover mission. You will infiltrate the Resistance, become one of them." She spits out _them_ the way Troopers say _moof-milker_ or _Kylo Ren_. "You will keep General Hux and myself posted on what is going on, tell us their secrets. And when you find the map to Skywalker, you will bring it to us. You will help the First Order take down the Resistance from the inside."

It's so overwhelming. FN-2187 fights not to let any emotion show on his face. He wishes he were still wearing his helmet but won't dare do so unless Captain Phasma or the General tell him to. "How will I get in touch with you, Captain?" he asks, because the enormity of _everything else_ he wants to ask is threatening to tear him to shreds.

"You will be given a wristband," says Captain Phasma, "designed by our top techs. If you press a button, it will act as an earpiece. You will only use it in private locations where you know that no one from the Resistance is spying on you. We cannot have this mission jeopardized, FN-2187. You are our last shot."

This is crazy. Maybe Captain Phasma is crazy—what was it they used to chant in secret about the Captain in the Young Cadets before they went off on duty? _Crazy as a lylek, nasty as a reek, put her in a pie dish, give her to the neek?_ It'd been discouraged as individualism, and UT-1200, the ringleader, had been decommissioned as a result. But no. She's serious. They're both serious.

"I'll do it, Captain," he says.

"Excellent," says Captain Phasma. No pride, nothing in her voice to give her away. She sounds as though she'd known he'd accept all along. "You will leave in eight hours. FN-2000, FN-2003 and FN-2199 will not know about this. In order to fulfill this deception, everyone here will think you defected. It will make your story more believable."

"Captain…" FN-2187 knows he shouldn't interrupt but there's a burning question inside of him. "Isn't General Organa a Jedi? Won't she be able to read my mind and know that I'm not a defector?"

Captain Phasma scoffs. "Honestly, FN-2187, I thought you were smarter than this. General Organa will know that you are a defecting Stormtrooper because that is what you are going to think whenever you are around her. Do not ever let your mind stray to your mission in her presence. She may not be a Jedi like her brother, but she is still strong with the Force and you cannot let her find out your true nature. Keep your mind on lockdown, FN-2187. Is that quite clear?"

"Yes, Captain."

General Hux clears his throat, reminding FN-2187 that he is still in the room. "There will be a TIE Fighter waiting for you in the main hangar in eight hours. You will leave with as much fuss as possible. Head toward the Ileenium System—that's where their base is. The communicator wristband will be in the navigation box." Then a pause. "You are dismissed, FN-2187."

FN-2187 salutes. "General," he says with a nod, and makes for the door.

"FN-2187." He stops. "Put your helmet back on."

He does as she says, and then he leaves.

* * *

Slip is all questions when FN-2187 returns to the barracks. All Troopers have eight hours a day to use as an allotted dormancy period, and FN-2187 and Slip and Nines and Zeroes use the same eight hours a day every day. Some units do the same; other units can't stand to be near each other and have different dormancy periods. "What'd Captain Phasma want?"

"Nothing," he says, sitting down on his cot and removing his helmet. Slip's helmet is on his lap, and he's polishing a few dirty spots off it with a rag. Zeroes' uniform lies on his cot, and he polishes each piece of it with the care of a mother, or so FN-2187 imagines. Nines is still wearing his. "Nines, thanks for taking my shift today."

Nines grunts. His helmet comes off with a pop-hiss, like someone's opening a bottle of beer. "No problem, Eight-Seven." His tone suggests that it is, in fact, a problem, and FN-2187's sorry he'd asked. To Zeroes and Slip, he says, "Gigi—GG-0899—was working near Kylo Ren's part of the base and she says that Fiver—you know, JR-5555—saw Kylo Ren take his shirt off before going in the shower."

"Yeah, that's usually how showers work, Nines," says Slip.

"Shut it, bucket-head. Anyway, I bet he looked even shrimpier than normal. He probably weighs a hundred pounds soaking wet in that little black getup."

"You interested in Kylo Ren shirtless, Nines?" asks Zeroes with a smirk.

He receives a punch to the shoulder that's not entirely playful. "No I'm not." That's true. After all, even if fraternization weren't forbidden, anyone who even looks the wrong way at Kylo Ren gets a swift decommission. "I just figured you'd want to know so you can share it around. May as well make Kylo Ren look more human than he is."

All Stormtroopers own are stories, and since stories are so valuable, this one will probably be spread all over the base by tomorrow. FN-2187 doesn't particularly care that he won't be here to see it.

"Eight-Seven?" FN-2187 turns to see Slip looking at him, practically vibrating on his cot. "I used the technique you helped me with in the last battleprep and this time I got nine out of fifteen bullseyes instead of four like last time."

Nine out of fifteen is far from perfect, but FN-2187's still proud of Slip's achievement. "Good for you," he says with a small smile in Slip's direction. "If this keeps up then you'll be a model Stormtrooper in no time."

Slip beams from FN-2187's compliment, but Zeroes scoffs. "Slip didn't slip up? It's practically a miracle. Alert the Captain, Nines. Let's all celebrate his mediocre score as opposed to his normal shitty one."

Nines sniggers, and when Slip's shoulders slump in defeat, FN-2187's anger flares up. They're a team, and bullying is not tolerated under FN-2187's watch. "Hey," he snaps. Their heads shoot up. "Zeroes, if I remember correctly, your average score is seven out of fifteen on the battlepreps, so I would shut up if I were you."

Zeroes angrily folds his arms over his chest, turning to Nines and speaking to him instead. Slip gives FN-2187 a quicksilver smile before moving to finish polishing his helmet. FN-2187 standing up for Slip has done him no favors with the rest of his Troopers, as he'd suspected anyway.

FN-2187 lies down on his cot, half in his armor and half not. This is to be his last night on Starkiller Base, he thinks. No more lumpy cots. No more bickering Troopers to share a room with. No more barely inedible food. No more oh-three-hundred marches. It'd never been much, but it had been home, and now he's losing it all to go on a mission for Captain Phasma and General Hux.

The lights switch off, but FN-2187 doesn't go to sleep for a long time.

* * *

FN-2187 wakes up with the grace of two spaceships crashing into each other, his heart pounding in his chest like he'd run a hundred miles with no water. He takes a quick look at the clock on the wall—it's been six and a half hours since he'd gone to sleep. He has very little time left to get up to the main hangar and find the TIE Fighter that General Hux had said would be there.

He dresses quickly and quietly, careful not to wake up anyone. The last thing he needs right now is for Slip or Zeroes or Nines to wake up and ask where he's going. Or worse yet, tail him. He goes to the door quietly, picking up his helmet from the dresser next to it, and takes one last look at his quarters. He'll never see Nines or Slip or Zeroes again. He'll never see this room again. It's a bittersweet feeling.

Before he can change his mind, he walks out the door, putting on his helmet as he does so to avoid suspicion. He's just a model Stormtrooper, not at all one on a dangerous undercover mission that might get him shot and court-martialed before he even gets to the Ileenium System. The few Stormtroopers out and about nod respectfully to him, but thankfully no one stops to make conversation. He makes it to the hangar, where about ten Troopers are on break and chatting with one another. A group of nonTrooper lieutenants pass him by.

"Stay calm, stay calm," FN-2187 mutters to himself. He can't afford to break down now, not when he's so close. Where is it? Where's the TIE Fighter General Hux had told him about? He looks frantically around and he calms down exponentially upon seeing a one-man Special Forces TIE Fighter, the kind only used by officers like Captain Phasma. Looking around to make sure no one's watching, he walks quickly and efficiently to the far wall where the TIE Fighter stands at the ready.

He climbs up into it and slides into the cockpit with a thump, bracing himself for everyone to start shooting, but no one on the outside notices. He takes note of the controls—relatively similar to those that he'd used during battlepreps and simulations, with the exception of these new blaster systems. He can only really shoot blasters, though.

FN-2187 sees a button that he doesn't recognize and decides to push it, wondering what it does.

The TIE Fighter lurches forward and rises crookedly in the air.

"Shit," FN-2187 says conversationally, even though his voice is shaking and his insides feel like they've been strapped to a booster rocket. He sees through the windshield that the Troopers have taken notice of him, and Force almighty, they're unpacking megablasters. Shit. He needs to get out of here now. He starts to push random buttons, jiggling the joysticks on the control panel, but nothing happens.

Wait. He looks down at the blaster system, and makes a spur of the moment decision. He uses the toggle on the left to switch from mag pulse to missiles, and uses the site on the right to aim at the battalion of Troopers quickly growing below. _This has to work._ "Please work," he says, and pulls the trigger.

With a noise that sounds like a firecracker, the missiles are launched from the blaster system, and FN-2187 lets out a whoop of appreciation as he tears up the parked TIE Fighters and gun emplacements with strategic laser blasts. With a grin slowly blooming—he's having the time of his life now—he shoots a large blast at the control room, impeding the technicians in there from firing after him.

"Okay, enemy taken care of," he says. "Now, I need to get out of here." He moves the joysticks forward, and the TIE Fighter flies off out of the hangar and into the stars with a speed so intense it nearly gives him whiplash. "Force, shit—okay, okay, Ileenium System, how do I get to the Ileenium System?" He knows that they're near several desert planets now, but the Ileenium System is pretty far away.

He notices a navigation box sitting on the seat next to him. With one hand on the controls, he reaches for it and grabs it. It's a four-fiver, one of the ones that he actually knows the authorization code to, and he could cry of relief. "Authorization code: 9304SKB," he practically yells at it, setting the box back on the seat next to him so he can steer further away from the ship.

A holographic map blossoms up from the box as he drives the ship further away. "Where may I direct you today?" it asks politely.

Thank the Force it's set to Basic. He doesn't think he could handle it if it'd been set to droid or something. "Ileenium System," he says, shouting so it can hear him. "Take me to the Ileenium System."

"Calculating route to the Ileenium System—" Its voice is cut off by FN-2187 cursing up a blue streak because _damn it_ , now they're shooting after him too! Shit! He puts the TIE Fighter back into gear and turns it around, aiming its blasters back at the opening of the hangar, where guns and blasters are being fired at him like crazy. Damn it!

Cannons. He needs to take out the cannons. If this were a battleprep he'd have to take out the cannons first.

He arcs the TIE Fighter back and makes it dive through the opening between the levels of the massive ship, then flies down and back along the ship's belly where the cannons are warming up and will soon be ready to fire. His grip on the toggles is sweaty as he blasts salvos of lasers and, on his third attempt, hits a series of cannons, which explode in a series of sparks. "YES! YES!"

"Directing route to Ileenium System. Prepare for jump into hyperspace in ten seconds." The voice is calm and cool. FN-2187 pilots the TIE Fighter forward, wondering for a moment why he's so lucky today.

Ten seconds pass, and then the TIE Fighter disappears, leaving no proof that it had ever been there at all.

* * *

When he's in hyperspace, he puts the ship on autopilot and takes this time to remove his helmet, allowing him to breathe freely for the first time. He catches a glimpse of the clock on the navigation box and is stunned beyond belief to see that it's been only half an hour since he'd woken up. He wonders if Nines and Slip and Zeroes are up now, if they'd been the ones firing at him back at the hangar.

Suddenly he looks down at himself. If he's going to play the part of a defecting Stormtrooper, then he needs to get rid of his armor, doesn't he? He almost doesn't want to, as he's had this armor for such a long time that it's practically a part of him. He knows every nook, cranny and scratch of it better than he knows his own skin. Getting rid of it is…almost unimaginable.

The navigation box beeps to let him know that he's no longer in hyperspace. "Thanks," he says. Then he notices something new that had escaped his attention earlier: the wristband that Captain Phasma and General Hux had talked about earlier is taped to the back of the box. He rips it off in two short tugs and puts it on his left wrist. It fits him well, and their techs must really know what they're doing because he can't tell that it's secretly a communicator even though he knows that it is. A new thought comes to mind when he looks at the wristband. "Uh…navigation box? I don't suppose you know where the Resistance base is?"

"Calculating route to Resistance base—"

"No, no, that's okay, really," he says quickly, because he doesn't need the entire route to be reconfigured. "You don't have to—"

"Resistance Base, D'Qar," says the navigation box. "D'Qar is three planets away from the edge of the Ileenium System. En route to D'Qar now."

FN-2187's brows furrow in confusion. "How did you know where it is?"

"Information inputted by General Elan Bartram Hux," says the navigation box. FN-2187 holds back a snicker upon hearing the general's full name. Elan? Really? But in all seriousness, how had Hux known about the precise location of the Resistance base? Hadn't he just said that they thought it to be somewhere in the Ileenium System? What hadn't they told him?

The frantic beeping of his dashboard makes him frantic by default. "What the _helmet_?" is all he can say to himself. The TIE Fighter seems to be losing speed at a too-quick pace, and it's beginning to decline alarmingly fast. "Shit shit shit," he says under his breath. He pushes every button he can think of, including the auto-pilot controls, but nothing happens. The navigation box helpfully tells him that he's in the atmosphere of D'Qar, and he swears at it. "Shit!"

He is falling, falling, falling. His helmet bounces off the seat next to him and falls onto the floor with a thud, as does the navigation box. His heart leaps into his throat as the TIE Fighter descends so quickly that he thinks that the engines must be on fire or something. The TIE Fighter is so low that he can clearly see the grassy mounds and sunken structures on the ground.

"Brace for landing," says the navigation box helpfully.

FN-2187 grips the controls tightly, says a final prayer, and when the TIE Fighter crashes into the ground he goes unconscious instantly.


	2. Chapter 2

Since he’d been a cadet, FN-2187 had had to wake up at unreasonable hours to train or eat or attend early marches. He’d watched some of his fellow cadets get beaten up by the Trooper officers for not getting up fast enough, so he had learned to get up as quickly as possible in order to survive.

At the first hint of noise, however, FN-2187 gets up but immediately freezes when he notices a man pointing a blaster at him, looking very determined. His expression dares FN-2187 to move, lest he wants his head blown off. Always one to follow orders, he does not move a muscle. Instead he takes the time to observe, to think of a plan. The man holding a weapon looks about ten or so years older than him, with curly black hair and dark brown eyes and a style of stubble that he doesn’t quite recognize. He’s got a small droid by his side, and it’s orange and white and round and looks perfectly innocent, except FN-2187 has learned never to underestimate anyone by now, so he’s wary of the droid too.

He’s in a room that he doesn’t recognize, either. It’s obviously some kind of infirmary, based on the smell and the machines, but it isn’t the infirmary on Starkiller Base. Why aren’t Slip and Nines and Zeroes here? Why isn’t Captain Phasma or even General Hux in here chewing him out for getting injured? What in the world is—?

Suddenly it all comes back to him a rush. His mission. Escaping Starkiller Base amidst blaster fire and calls for his death. Flying to the Ileenium System with the aid of his navigation box. Defecting from the only home he’s ever known. Crashing and falling unconscious the moment his ship had hit the ground.

 _Oh shit,_ he realizes. He’s in the same room as a Resistance member and his pet droid. He’s actually _in_ the Resistance base on D’Qar. And for some reason, they haven’t shot him on sight. He would have, if he’d been in their shoes. What’s wrong with these people?

Despite his bold thoughts, FN-2187 is more frightened here than he has ever been in his life, but he doesn’t dare show it. Although it kills him to admit it, the Resistance man here is the one with the real power, so all he does is breathe and keep eye contact and hopes that his fear doesn’t show on his face.

Finally, the Resistance man speaks. “So who talks first?” he says, sounding bored. “I talk first? You talk first?”

FN-2187 is not quite sure what to say to this. “Why am I alive?” he asks, brows furrowing. He moves to prop himself up higher on his elbows but the Resistance man’s grip on his blaster tightens and he decides against it. “You should have killed me.”

The man snorts. “Don’t fall over yourself saying thanks, Trooper.” And _shit,_ they know what he is. Why wouldn’t they? He’d been found with his armor on. The man sighs, after seeing FN-2187’s stricken expression. “Sorry for snapping. It’s—look, I don’t know why General Organa ordered us to save you. She just said it was important for us to let you live. So we did.”

FN-2187 has never been this confused. “Wait, so _you_ found me?”

“Yep. My team was out doing drills and saw your TIE Fighter crash. We saw you were a Stormtrooper, relayed the information to General Organa, and she told us to bring you back to base. You’ve been out for about three days.”

 _Three days?_ Force, that isn’t good. Captain Phasma will have expected him to report back to her and General Hux by now. Casually, FN-2187 scratches his left wrist, and his breathing quickens as he notices that his earpiece wristband is missing. “Where’s all of my armor? Where’s my helmet? Where’s my wristband?”

“General Organa took all of it to make sure you weren’t sent to spy.” Little do they know that he _has_ been sent here to spy. Well, hopefully their technology is as far ahead of the Resistance’s as the officers say in their morning speeches. “I’m Poe Dameron, by the way.” FN-2187 nods in acknowledgement, committing the name to memory. He has two names, just like Kylo Ren and General Hux—well, the general has three names, four if he counts the rank, but still. Interesting. “Hey, what’s your name, anyway? I can’t keep calling you Trooper in my head.”

“FN-2187,” he answers promptly.

This seems to startle Poe Dameron a little. “FN—what?”

He feels embarrassed now. It’s not like he knows what real names should be (his only references are Captain Phasma and Elan Bartram Hux and Kylo Ren), but based on the Resistance man’s reaction having a mesh of letters and numbers for a name isn’t right. “It’s the only name they ever gave me.”

Poe Dameron shrugs. “Well, I’m not using it.” He bites his lip, deep in thought. “FN, huh? Finn. I’m going to call you Finn. Is that alright?”

Finn. A name. A name for himself to keep and hold forever. He’s never had a name before; never had something to truly call his own. Finn. He likes it. “Finn,” he says, trying it out. Yes, it fits him like a brand new helmet. “Yeah, I like that.”

Poe Dameron smiles at him politely, but before he can say anything else, the door to the infirmary opens, causing his guard to sit up straight and tighten his grip on his blaster. His pet droid skitters back slightly and beeps several times. A woman enters the room, and FN-2187— _Finn’s_ breath leaves his lungs like he’s been punched in the gut. The woman looks to be in her fiftieth rotation, perhaps a bit more and she wears simple clothing with her hair braided out of her face, but everyone in the First Order has been trained to recognize her face on sight: General Leia Organa-Solo, former Princess of Alderaan, the brains and brawn behind the Resistance, wife of famous smuggler Han Solo. Twin sister of Luke Skywalker, the myth.

“So.” General Organa’s voice is strong, stronger than he’d expected. It’s also soft and feminine, unlike the harsh, raspy growl that he’d imagined her to have after having heard all of his CO’s talking about her for years. “You must be the Stormtrooper that Poe’s team found.”

 _Poe_. That means that Dameron is his surname. Finn readjusts his thinking. He remembers that she’s a Jedi, and he has to be careful what he thinks. “Yes ma’am,” he finally says, treating her with the respect he’d normally bestow to Captain Phasma. General Organa commands respect much like the captain, anyway.

“What is your name?”

Names seem to be important here. And why not? They symbolize freedom, don’t they? No wonder the First Order refers to the Troopers by a mix of letters and numbers. “FN-2187,” he says reflexively, having answered that question the same way since he’d learned to speak. “That’s my designation, anyway. My name is—” He looks at Poe Dameron, just to make sure it’s alright, and the guard nods. “My name is Finn.”

General Organa nods, as if she meets Stormtroopers with names every day. Her hand shifts to her side—a bit too casual to be safe. She’s probably carrying a weapon. _Bucket-head, of course she’s carrying a weapon. She’s the general of the damn Resistance._ “How did you get here?”

This is where he has to be careful. “I escaped from the First Order. Stole a TIE Fighter after my dormancy period and flew to the Ileenium System. The navigation box in my TIE Fighter took me here, and then my engines cut out for some reason and I crash-landed.” He remembers his head slamming into the back of his seat and winces. Then he thinks of the navigation box and wonders if it had burned in the crash. He’s unexpectedly emotional at the thought.

“And how did you know we were located in the Ileenium System?”

He’s faced with an easy decision: to lie. “Captain Phasma and General Hux gave me a mission,” he says. “They wanted me to bomb the Resistance base on D’Qar…this one, I mean.” He pauses. “But I refused—I…I couldn’t kill for them. So I defected.” He pauses, remembering the next step. “Believe me, I won’t do anything to hurt you. I want to join you. I—I can shoot, I’m a good fighter, I can fight for you now if you want, I’m not that great of a pilot but I can learn, I really can. If—if you don’t need me, then…then you can just shoot me and be done with it.” He nods toward Poe. “I know that’s what you Ordered Poe Dameron to do if I was untrustworthy.”

There is silence except for the beep of the droid and the hiss of the machine near his cot. He’s sweating from his stupidity. There’s no reason to trust him, and when Poe lifts his blaster Finn winces, ready to die before his mission can even get underway.

Then the general speaks. “I believe you.” The words are sweeter than the biannual desserts they get on base. Poe lowers his blaster. He doesn’t dare say anything; he waits for her to finish. “You’re the first defector from the First Order we’ve ever gotten. And I’m sure that your defection has sparked something among the Stormtroopers, so we may be seeing more in the future.” Her eyes twinkle, like she’s told a good joke. “Poe will help you get integrated among the Resistance members. But that will wait until you recover.” Then her eyes harden. “That does not mean that you will go around as you please. There will always be someone watching you to make sure you are not here to spy on us.”

Stupidly, he says, “I thought you said that you believed me.”

“I said that I believed you, yes,” concedes General Organa. “I didn’t say that I trusted you.”

Oh. So it’s like that.

“So here’s what will happen,” says the general. “You will stay here for a few more days and recover. Then Poe will take you around, introduce you, and help you get integrated.” To Poe, she says, “If he’s as good of a shooter as he says he is you may have just found yourself a new gunner.” To Finn, she says in a low voice, “And if I get any proof that you have not been on our side, I will make you wish your TIE Fighter had never crash-landed here. Have I been misunderstood?”

Finn makes direct eye contact with her and shakes his head. “No, General. You’re clear.”

“Good.” She straightens, gives a nod to Poe, turns and leaves the room as quickly as she’d entered, closing the door behind her with a soft slam.

Neither Finn nor Poe can speak for a few moments. “Is she always that, uh,” Finn hazards for a moment, trying to find the most politically correct word, “intense?”

“She’s been known to make seasoned commanders piss themselves,” Poe says with a snicker. He’d probably been there for at least one of those events. Then his brows furrow. “So what’s it like being a Trooper?”

 _Honorable. Useful. Worthwhile._ Finn fights against instinct for the first time in his life, and says the truth: “Stifling.”

“Huh.” That’s all he says, just ‘huh’, a quick exhale. But Poe stares at him with a new appreciation, as if he’s seeing Finn for the first time.

In return, Finn asks, “What’s it like being in the Resistance?” just to be polite.

Poe looks thoughtful. “It’s hard sometimes, hard like you wouldn’t believe, and a lot of work, but it’s…satisfying.”

So there it is, both of their occupations summed up in two words—stifling and satisfying. Finn’s not sure how to feel about this new information. “Satisfying,” he echoes. And then, because something inside of him yearns to know, “What do you think will happen to me here?”

 “You’ll fit in,” Poe says. Before Finn can rip into him for lying, Poe clarifies his statement. “Not outright. There’s a lot of people in the Resistance who hate Troopers and everything the First Order stands for. It’ll be hard, but you’ll fit in eventually.”

Fit in. Finn has spent his entire life trying to fit in. If he couldn’t fit in with his own people, in his own squadron, then what makes Poe think that he’ll fit in with the people in the Resistance? Then again, Finn thinks, this entire mission is relying on him fitting in with the Resistance, so he prays that Poe’s assessment is accurate. He nods. “Hey, uh, will I ever get my stuff back? I just—the armor and helmet I can do without, honestly, but the wristband’s important.”

Poe narrows his eyes. Finn could kick himself for his stupidity. _Way to go, FN-2187_. He stops his train of thought before it can get too out of hand. After all, the last thing he wants to do now is sabotage his mission through incriminating thought. “Why’s the wristband important?”

He makes the easy decision to stretch the truth again. “It’s the only thing that I own,” he says. “I…my armor’s not even mine, and neither’s the helmet, they belonged to ER-6577—Two Sevens—before he died in battle.” That’s true at least. “The wristband’s mine. I—it’s all I’ve got.”

Poe studies him for a moment. “You’ll probably get it back,” he finally says. “How’d you get it anyway? Thought Troopers weren’t supposed to have material possessions.”

“We aren’t,” Finn says. “I stole it.”

Poe laughs. “Nice,” he says appreciatively. “Off who? Kylo Ren?”

“No, I stole it from General Hux.” Right out of his hands, in fact. “When he was telling me about the mission, I swiped it off his desk. I think his mother gave it to him or something.” Not that Finn knows if General Hux has a mother or not. Everyone in the Trooper ranks thinks that General Hux was created from a test tube. In comparison, Kylo Ren likes to spread around the rumor that he’d been a byproduct of the Force itself, like Darth Vader, but none of the Troopers believe that. Finn’s old CO, BK-9090, had always said in private that she thought that Kylo Ren had become Kylo Ren after one too many tantrums in front of his parents. “Are you allowed to have personal possessions here?”

As Poe explains, Finn can’t help but relax, even though he is in the presence of a Resistance man. For some reason, he thinks that this can be the start of an excellent friendship.

* * *

 

It is another four days before he is released from the infirmary. Back on Starkiller Base, he would have been released from the infirmary upon regaining consciousness, but the Resistance has actually let him rest and recuperate to full capacity. It’s strange, but Finn’s estimation of the Resistance rises further when he leaves the infirmary and sees Poe standing outside holding a box that contains Finn’s armor, helmet, and wristband. “No one could find anything wrong with the wristband, so they released it,” Poe explains. “Admiral Ackbar was all for tossing it, but when I told him you stole it from Hux everyone agreed to let you keep it.”

Finn finds his phrasing weird. “What do you mean? Everyone agreed?”

Poe’s eyebrows furrow. “It’s a democratic process here. We all vote to decide what we’re going to do—the officers, General Organa, Admiral Ackbar, the pilot squadron leaders like me, etcetera. Why? How did things work in the Trooper ranks?”

“Kylo Ren decides everything. He gets his orders from Supreme Leader Snoke, and in turn tells all of the officers what to do. Essentially, the First Order runs on his whim.” A democratic process. The thought of all of the officers, Trooper and non-Trooper alike, deciding how to collectively run the First Order is hilarious. Finn reaches into the box, takes out the wristband and puts it on his wrist. It’s tinted beige now as opposed to its original white color, probably from the tests the Resistance had inflicted on it. Nothing seems to have been tampered with.

Poe speaks first. “D’you want the armor? Or the helmet?”

Finn’s never had that choice before. He takes a look down at the black pants and grey shirt that the Resistance had issued him, and then back at the armor and helmet. This is the longest he’s ever gone without wearing his helmet, without hiding his face. “I won’t wear them now,” he finally says. “I—maybe there’s a storage room that I could put my armor and helmet in?”

Poe actually looks relieved, for reasons that Finn cannot place. He’s excellent at reading blank stares and helmets, but he cannot whatever Poe Dameron is thinking. “That can work.”

After Poe takes the box into the infirmary until they find an available storage room, he takes Finn into the mess hall. It’s crowded as helmet, filled with Resistance members of all races, ages and genders. They’re all crowded at tables laughing and chatting in languages, some of which he cannot understand. Finn has never felt so uncomfortable or out of place in his life, even amongst Nines and Slip and Zeroes.

Poe puts a hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture. His reflexes honed after years of combat training, Finn grabs Poe’s wrist in a death grip and twists it behind his back. Poe yells in pain after a crack splits the air, and Finn instantly releases his wrist, backing away in horror. _Way to go, FN-2187, you can’t even keep a friend for a few hours before hurting them._ Several Resistance members have pulled out their blasters and are pointing them at Finn. “I’m sorry, Poe, I just—” Finn takes a step forward toward Poe, who’s cradling his now broken wrist in the crook of his elbow. “Shit. Are you—just—ah, helmet, are you okay?”

“Fine,” Poe hisses. “Just—shit, buddy, you’ve got one hell of a grip.” To the other Resistance members pointing blasters at him and Finn, he musters a grimace. “M’fine, guys. Not his fault. Should have warned him.” They put down their blasters, some looking especially reluctant. To Finn, he says, “I’m, uh, I’m going to get this splinted. I’ll be right back, okay?”

Finn nods, and Poe leaves. Honestly, it’s the least he can do after breaking Poe’s wrist in one clean snap. Horrified, he looks down at his hands in shame. Why had he done that? He’d _known_ that Poe had meant the hand on his shoulder to be a comforting gesture. What the helmet had he been thinking?

Everyone is watching him, and he has a decision to make. He can leave and wait for Poe to get back, or he can stay and find a place to sit and work on integrating himself into the Resistance so he can complete his mission. He takes a step forward to the table of people wearing the orange jumpsuits that all of the pilots seem to wear, and before he can even think of something to say to break the silence, one of them mutters something under his breath.

“What did you say?” Finn asks. He’s pretty sure that the man’s comment had been directed at him.

“Stormtrooper, Empire-loving bantha fodder,” says the man. He’s got grey hair. Seems like he’s even older than General Organa, and looks like he’s been through hell and back several times. “You just broke Commander Dameron’s wrist.”

“It was an accident,” Finn says, for lack of anything better to say.

“Sure it was,” the man snickers, standing up to face Finn. One of the girls at the table, a muscular young woman with short, jet-black hair tells him to shut up. “Oh, fuck off, Pava, you know this one’s type. You’ve shot his buddies before—”

“Shut up,” Finn says, his voice a threatening growl. His fists are clenched at his sides. He’d known that his integration was going to be difficult but he hadn’t figured that he would encounter bigots so soon. Oversight on his part. “You don’t know anything about me. What I’ve done, what I’ve seen.”

“Please,” the man scoffs. “I’ve spent my whole life shooting bucketheads like you. You may have General Organa fooled with your little defecting act, but you ain’t fooled me. Your kind can’t think for themselves ‘side of what Kylo fucking Ren tells you to do, you ain’t even people; you’re just _numbers_.” The man leers at him. “Go on, buckethead. Hit me. I know you want to.”

Oh, he does. The man’s not wrong. One quick punch and Finn could have the man choking on his teeth. “I won’t,” he says. “I won’t stoop to your level.”

“Ah. So it seems that all the Troopers lack backbones—”

“Shut the helmet up,” Finn says, “or I’ll make you shut up.”

“What’s going on here?” Evidently Poe has returned. Finn relaxes, but only slightly. If the man makes any sudden movements toward him, he can’t guarantee that he’ll walk out of this with his extremities intact. “Markus?”

“Absolutely nothing, Commander Dameron,” says the man with a voice that reminds Finn of slime. He has a name. Markus. “Just reminding the buckethead of his place.”

“I have a name,” Finn snaps, tired of this laserbrained flyboy. “It’s Finn, my name is Finn. If you’re going to insult me, at least call me by my name instead of my old profession.”

“Captain Dinoa,” Poe says in a voice of pure authority only a few levels down from Captain Phasma’s, “if you ask me, there’s no place in my squadron for a man who can’t move past old ideals and bigoted thoughts. Report to General Organa for a new designation.”

Markus Dinoa, with one last derogatory look at Finn that makes him feel small, slithers off. Everyone in the mess hall is staring now. Finn’s grateful that he has enough self-control left not to flush from his embarrassment. “Thank you,” he says to Poe. Then, “I’m sorry, again. About your wrist.”

“It’s alright,” says Poe. “Healers said that I need to come to them for a bacta treatment for a couple of weeks, and then it’ll be as good as new.” To Pava and the other pilots at the table, he says, “Finn, this is Jessika Pava, Temmin Wexley, Karé  Kun, Oddy Muva, and L’ulo. Guys, this is Finn.”

“Actually, it’s Snap,” says Temmin Wexley with a _look_ toward Poe.

Finn is confused. “I—I thought your name was Temmin.”

“It is. Snap’s a nickname.”

“Oh.” So people who aren’t Stormtrooper have nicknames too. Except their nicknames aren’t numbers or two letters deriving from their designation, they’re based off attributes. Finn takes note of this. “Permission to sit?”

“Yeah, sure,” says Karé, who scoots over a bit and makes room for Finn to sit. The only one who’s ever done that for him is Slip, and for a moment Finn tries to imagine his fellow cadet here at the Resistance base. He’d probably be awkward as helmet and wouldn’t speak for a few days, but Slip has always been more social than him and he’d most likely fit in. Definitely, Finn thinks with no small dose of bitterness, he wouldn’t have broken the wrist of the first person here to ever be nice to him.

“Thanks,” Finn says, and sits down, and listens. He listens to Poe’s explanations of life at the Resistance base, Pava’s jokes and jibes toward Oddy and Karé, L’ulo’s garbled speech and Snap’s whistling of tunes that Finn doesn’t know.

It’s a slow realization that these people aren’t bad. Captain Phasma and General Hux and Kylo Ren and all of his other commanding officers had always preached how awful the Resistance members are, how they had no respect for life and shot down valuable Troopers. They’ve all been told the horror stories about Troopers who have fought to the death to avoid being captured, because if they are then their corpses will be raped and skinned alive, in no particular order.

Poe and Pava and Snap and Karé and Oddy and L’ulo aren’t bad people.

They’re just…people.

Finn doesn’t know quite what to do with this realization, so he tucks it away for later.

* * *

 

He finally gets to report back to Captain Phasma that evening, when Poe and his squadron have gone out and he’s alone in his new quarters. They’re about the size of General Hux’s office, perhaps a bit smaller. (He has a bed and a desk and a place to store his one set of clothes and his own lavatory, and he knows it’s wrong to be proud about these things but he is anyway.)

After making one hundred percent sure that no one is near him and that General Organa is nowhere in sight, he swipes at the clasp of the wristband, which opens to reveal a small microphone. “Captain Phasma?” he whispers, not wanting to draw any more attention to himself than he is. “Captain?”

There’s a buzzing of static for a while, and just when he’s about to give up on the wristband’s functionality Captain Phasma’s voice comes over the microphone. _“Who is this? What is your operating number?”_

“Fi—FN-2187,” Finn says, nearly forgetting that Stormtroopers aren’t supposed to have names. “Ma’am.”

There’s another rush of static, and then Captain Phasma speaks again. _“I see you’ve finally found the time to report back, FN-2187. Where have you been?”_

“I was unconscious in their infirmary, Captain. The Resistance confiscated my armor and helmet and wristband and I only got them back today.” That’s all technically true, but he doesn’t want to tell Captain Phasma about his four days of recovery. She’ll just think that he’s weak.

 _“Hmm.”_ She doesn’t question him further. _“What have you found?”_

“Nothing too impressive yet, Captain,” Finn says, regretful that his first mission report contains virtually no useful information. “I’ve found out about the best squadron of pilots here, and I’m working on integrating myself into their favor. General Organa believes that I could be a gunner for them.”

 _“Excellent. Integrate yourself into their favor, and report back when you have_ useful _information.”_ Captain Phasma’s tone is snide, and he barely has time to come up with an adequate response before the static vanishes. She had hung up on him.

He doesn’t fall asleep easily after that.


	3. Chapter 3

It seems like nothing short of a miracle that he's gotten away with this deception for so long. He's been living on the edge for the last two weeks, wondering every night if General Organa and the others would break down his door at any moment, announce him being a spy to the whole base, and feed him to a pack of Rathtars. But he continues to keep his thoughts on lockdown and his communications with Captain Phasma to a minimum, and General Organa and the others do not suspect anything. Captain Markus Dinoa continues to give him hell, but that's to be expected. In fact, Finn would be worried if Dinoa had suddenly turned nice overnight.

He's enjoying himself, despite the danger of his situation. He enjoys the food in the mess hall, which contains more variety than he'd grown up with. He enjoys learning universal history and checks out several books from the Resistance library about the times of old and stays up late at night reading them. He enjoys flying with Poe and his squadron, who have sort of taken him under their wing and have become the friends that he'd never known he wanted. Pava and Karé tease him and give him flying tips. Oddy and L'ulo teach them their respective languages. Snap and Poe pull pranks with him and teach him new swear words. Around them, he feels so much more relaxed than he ever had with Nines and Zeroes.

What he doesn't like, however, is how they'd assumed the worst of him from the start. Like how Pava had thought that just because he'd been a Stormtrooper he had no idea how his body worked or what sex was, or when Poe had thought that he hadn't known how to read due to his upbringing, or when Snap and Karé had taken it upon themselves to explain every little detail of how a military base worked. He'd explained to them (politely albeit through gritted teeth) that even though he'd grown up in the First Order, he isn't completely naïve and does not need to have information spoon-fed to him like he's a child. They'd all immediately apologized and ever since then he's been treated like an adult.

Every day it's getting harder for him to focus on his mission, but he knows that if he refuses there will be nothing to stop Captain Phasma and General Hux from flying to the Ileenium System and bombing the hell out of the Resistance base. So he keeps passing information onto Captain Phasma and tries not to think about the consequences of his actions.

He's not sure what he will do if he pauses to think about it.

* * *

"I have a mission," General Organa announces one afternoon when the Black Squadron's X-Wings land after a simulation. Finn feels rather nauseous as Poe (against medical orders) had done several corkscrew spins while chasing Pava around, but it doesn't stop him from automatically straightening and saluting. Oddy trips over Karé, who curses at him under her breath. "At ease."

"What is the mission, General?" Finn asks. His first job for the Resistance—this will be interesting. He clasps his hands together, rubbing at his wristband due to nerves.

General Organa's eyes pass over him and he feels like she can see into his soul, but then the moment passes and she's speaking again. "The mission, Finn, is one of the highest caliber." She pauses, inhaling and exhaling quickly. If Finn had known her any better, he'd say that she's nervous. "I'm sure you all know of my brother, Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker." Poe gasps, looking rather like an excited child. Finn stifles a snicker, but is secretly excited. If General Organa is bringing up Luke Skywalker, then that means… "He disappeared many years ago, but he left a map behind. For what reason, we do not know, but there is a map. We have recovered most of the pieces from his R2 unit, but the final piece has gone missing for quite some time. Our intelligence teams have discovered the final piece of my brother's map on the desert planet Jakku."

Karé giggles, and General Organa is on her case in an instant. "Is there a problem, Lieutenant Kun?"

"No, General," Karé says, immediately straight-faced. "I was just surprised that Jedi Skywalker chose to hide the last part of his map on a remote planet in the Western Reaches."

General Organa looks wistful. "Luke does many things that we don't understand. But," and the moment passes, "that is beside the point. The mission, Black Squadron, should you choose to accept it, is to fly to Jakku and recover this map."

_This is it. This is the reason I'm here. Focus up, buckethead, you need to go on this mission._

"We'll take it, General," Poe says immediately. "How many of us do you need?"

"One person and one droid, Commander Dameron, as to attract as little attention as possible. My first choice would be you, but your wrist is still in recovery and it's on Dr. Kalonia's strict orders that you do no flying—that rule I see you've already broken." General Organa sounds faintly amused. Poe stares down at his cast. Finn can feel the heartbroken vibes from where he's standing and is swarmed with guilty thoughts for breaking Poe's wrist all over again. "I'd like to choose Captain Pava to take this mission, as well as your BB unit."

"I'd be honored, General Organa," says Pava after a quick look toward Poe. "When would I start out?"

"Tomorrow morning," General Organa answers. "If you leave by then you'll be in Jakku by evening. Start preparing supplies, Captain Pava, and I'll see you at the tarmac at oh six hundred hours. The rest of you are dismissed. Except," she says once they begin moving, "Finn."

 _Shit._ He fights not to let any of his fear show on his face and blocks out all thoughts of his mission as he turns to face the general. Force, he'd give his left arm for some company. "General," he says evenly, giving her a polite nod.

"Are you enjoying your time here, Finn?"

That hadn't been the question he'd been expecting. "Yes, ma'am," he says, imagining in an effort to relax that he's speaking to Captain Phasma but that just makes him more nervous. "I like it better than Starkiller Base." _I like it better than Starkiller Base—honestly, Finn, you sound like such an idiot._

"I'm very glad to hear that." General Organa tilts her head slightly. "Finn, I," she hesitates, "I don't suppose you've ever seen…Kylo Ren? On Starkiller Base, of course."

Out of everything he'd expected her to ask, this hadn't been one of them. "Uh—yes, ma'am. I've never spoken to Kylo Ren, but I've seen him."

"Is he…" She exhales. "How is he?"

Force. What exactly does she want from him? "…fine, I suppose. Ma'am." He doesn't add that Kylo Ren scares the shit out of everyone on base, or that several Troopers had never come back after a meeting with him, or that Kylo Ren is possibly the most evil man in the galaxy. He has a feeling that she already knows this.

His theory's proven correct when General Organa sighs like she'd expected exactly this response. "I see. Thank you, Finn. Dismissed."

He salutes and starts to move away from the general, but catches a glimpse of her expression before he leaves that rocks him to the core. She looks almost _haunted_ , like she's reliving awful memories that she's tried to erase but can't. Like she's watching someone close to her die.

Finn leaves before she notices him still standing there.

* * *

Pava and BB-8 leave the next morning as planned. Karé worries the entire day, uncharacteristically biting her nails and snapping at anyone who comes close to her. Finn isn't sure why until Snap hints that it's more of a romantic interest in Pava's wellbeing than a friendly one, and he immediately gets it. Oddy and L'ulo work with General Organa and Admiral Ackbar for the rest of the day, communicating with Lor San Tekka, the one with the last piece of the map. Poe's still upset about his situation regarding not being chosen for the mission but he's put on a happy face for the day as to not upset anyone (namely Karé) further.

"I'm sorry you weren't chosen," Finn says to Poe during dinner. Karé's elected to skip, which is why they're having this conversation at all. "It's my fault for that—if I hadn't broken your wrist you could be going instead of Pava."

Poe shrugs. "Skipping one mission isn't the end of the galaxy."

"You seem to think otherwise," says Finn. Then he adds, "There's always the next one, you know. It's not like the galaxy will be peaceful forever—I guarantee you'll be able to complete the next crazy dangerous mission General Organa comes up with."

That makes him grin, at least. "Thanks, buddy," he says, cuffing Finn playfully on the shoulder with his good wrist. "And I'll tell you what—I won't be upset about my not going on the mission if you won't be guilty about breaking my wrist. Deal?"

Finn grins back. "Yeah, deal."

The rest of their conversation is cut off by Karé racing into the mess hall like she's been chased by a battleprep droid for a hundred miles. Poe and Finn immediately get to their feet. Snap, who'd been sitting at the next table with some other friends, gets up and nearly trips over his chair. "Guys," she gasps, bent over slightly, "it's Pava."

Finn and Poe and Snap take off from the mess hall at a sprint after Karé, who'd disappeared as quickly as she'd entered. Somehow she's still talking a mile a minute even through her heavy gasps, and Finn manages to make out a few facts: Pava had arrived on Jakku, she was about to land near Lor San Tekka's village, and she was just fine, as was BB-8. When they finally arrive in General Organa's office, Oddy and L'ulo are already there, Snap is sweating like crazy and Karé's lost the ability to speak, but a hologram of Pava is beaming and waving at them. A few chirrups from her side signify that BB-8's close by.

"Captain Pava," says General Organa because apparently she's the only calm one in the room, "have you landed yet?"

"Yes, General, I'm about to exit," Pava replies promptly. "Would you like me to keep the camera on?"

"Yes, Captain, I would," General Organa says. "Please tell Lor San Tekka that I say hello."

"Will do, ma'am." Pava salutes the general and as they can see whatever Pava sees, once she exits her X-Wing everyone in the room is granted a view of Jakku. Finn's never been to the desert planet but from what he can tell, he's not missing out on much. It's all sand as far as the eye can see, with a few ramshackle huts in the distance. Besides the map, he doubts that there's a single important thing on the entire planet.

Pava enters a hut, where a rugged old man sits on a cot with his eyes shut, almost as if he's meditating. He looks like he's fought in many wars, and when his eyes open Finn has no doubt that he's seen more bad than good. Nevertheless, the man smiles when he catches sight of her. "Hello," he greets her, standing up. "You must be Captain Jessika Pava."

"Yes sir," Pava says, straightening. BB-8 chirps and leaves her side, but Pava's eyes return to the man immediately. "You must be Lor San Tekka, correct?"

"Lor San Tekka," he muses, savoring the name like it's a fine wine. "That's a name I have not heard in a long, long time. I've hidden my identity from the good people of the village to protect them. Most here know me just as Elder Crèche—from my explorations when I was affiliated with the Church of the Force, you know. But it is good to hear my name again, Captain Pava, thank you."

"You're welcome, sir," says Pava. Lor San Tekka gestures for her to sit down on the nearest chair, which she does. "I believe you have…something of use to us. Something that will make things right."

"I do." Pava's eyes follow Lor San Tekka as he walks over to a chest near the foot of his cot. Bending down, he unclasps the lock, opens the chest, removes a small sack, closes the chest and returns to Pava. "This will begin to make things right. I've traveled too far and seen too much to ignore the despair in the galaxy. Without the Jedi, there can be no balance in the Force."

There it is again. The Jedi. It's a bit strange to hear the Jedi referred as the keepers of balance after years of listening to the First Order calling them unimportant believers in a hokey religion. Finn can tell that Tekka's words hold more merit than General Hux's. He supposes that just like several other things, the First Order had not been right about the Jedi either.

Pava's gaze goes to the sack, and it's all that the people in General Organa's office can see now too. "Thanks to you we have a fighting chance. General Organa's been after this for quite a while."

Lor San Tekka chuckles to himself, like Pava's said some inside joke. "General, you call her. To me, she's royalty." Finn sees General Organa half-smile. "Well, she certainly can be both."

Suddenly, there's beeping in the background and Pava's gaze switches from Lor San Tekka to BB-8 so quickly that Finn's eyes cross. He can't understand what BB-8's beeping about but judging by Poe's face it cannot be good. General Organa sums up the thought of the entire room when she says rather grimly, "They've got company."

Pava and Lor San Tekka exit the hut and Finn's breath gets caught in his lungs when Pava raises quadnoculars to her eyes and everyone in General Organa's office gets a glimpse of enemy ships approaching. The First Order. How did they know about this mission? Finn hadn't told them anything—helmet, he hadn't even gotten a chance to! How in the galaxy—

Oh Force. His wristband. What if he'd accidentally turned it on yesterday during the briefing? He chances a quick look at his wrist but he can't see anything that signifies that the earpiece is on. Then how in the galaxy had they known about the mission?

"You have to leave," Lor San Tekka is saying. "Go!"

Pava's jaw clenches. "With all due respect, sir, I refuse. What kind of Resistance member would I be if I didn't stay and fight?"

Karé's hands are clasped over her mouth and her eyes are wide with terror. Poe looks lost for words, as does Oddy. Snap and L'ulo are conversing with each other in a low, worried tone. Whatever expression is on Finn's face can't be good. General Organa looks lost in thought. Lor San Tekka isn't having any of it. "I will not risk one of the general's top soldiers," he snaps. "You must depart, child. Things will get dangerous."

"I will not leave you," Pava replies just as ferociously. Without another word to Lor San Tekka, she kneels down next to BB-8 and pulls from the leather sack a small, old artifact. The missing piece of the map. She inserts it into BB-8, who chirps once in question. "You take this, BB. It's safer with you—no one will think to search a droid. I want you to get as far away from here as you can. Do you hear me?" BB-8 hesitates. Poe looks horrified. Karé's began to cry. "Get this as far away from here as possible. Get somewhere safe. I'll come for you!" Pava's voice cracks. "It will be alright."

BB-8 beep-whines nervously, but Pava's head turns, preventing them from seeing any more. Hopefully the droid's managed to escape. All they can hear now is blaster fire. They catch a glimpse of Lor San Tekka reassuring the villagers but then Pava's gaze is torn away from him and she moves to hide behind a structure. Finn watches Troopers run out of a shuttlecraft with blasters held aloft and bites back a groan. He can't help but root for the Troopers and yet, his heart skips a beat whenever he sees a villager fall to the ground. Conflicting emotions swirl within him.

And then Kylo Ren exits the shuttlecraft, striding through the chaos toward Lor San Tekka. He's so much taller than the other man, yet Lor San Tekka stares him down anyway. They can't see much from where Pava's standing but they can see enough. General Organa is motionless.

"Look how old you've become," Kylo Ren is saying. Pava inches closer to the commotion. Finn hopes that she's still out of sight. Lor San Tekka does not reply. "You know what I've come for."

"I know where you came from." Lor San Tekka is either exceedingly brave or exceedingly stupid. "Before you called yourself Kylo Ren."

Kylo Ren ignores him. "The map to Skywalker. We know you've found it, and now you're going to give it to the First Order." Finn inhales. So they did find out. But how?

"The First Order," Lor San Tekka muses, "rose from the Dark Side. You did not. You may try to hide it, but you cannot deny the truth that is your family."

Suddenly, Kylo Ren raises his lightsaber, igniting it. Finn's never had seen it in action before, and doesn't feel any better now that he's seen it. "You're so right," he says conversationally, like they've ran into each other into a cantina or something. And then he rips it down across the older man's body.

Lor San Tekka falls like a marionette whose strings have been cut. Pava screams and fires her blaster. The bolt freezes an inch from Kylo Ren's head, stopped by his outstretched hand. Pava is frozen where she stands, and all those in General Organa's office watch with bated breath as Pava's eyes are locked onto Kylo Ren.

"The old man gave it to you," Kylo Ren says. Then he reaches forward, almost as if he's stroking her cheek, and removes the camera that had been located in Pava's helmet. How had he known about it? The Force? "Take her," he orders the person behind him, and then crushes the camera with his fist, severing the connection.

General Organa's office is silent for a long time. Finn can hear the clock ticking on the wall. Poe is speechless. Karé is enveloped in Snap's arms, but both of them are motionless and say nothing. Even her tears have halted for now. Oddy breaks the silence first, of all people. "We must rescue her, General," he says in accented Basic. L'ulo nods in agreement. "It is not a question of if but rather one of when."

Her lips press into a thin line. "I agree," General Organa says, causing Karé to heave a sigh of relief. "We will rescue Captain Pava as soon as we can identify her location."

This statement causes a mass uproar in the room, namely by Poe and Karé and even Finn, who has never agreed to leave a man behind. "We can't just leave her there, General," Poe says, "what if they're torturing her, what if they're—"

"I understand your concerns, Commander Dameron," General Organa snaps, and Poe falls silent instantly. "However, I will not have my best squadron of pilots flying around the galaxy like a crew of headless Loth-cats and alert the First Order of our every move. We will send every intelligence unit to gather information on Captain Pava's whereabouts but until then I forbid you to go after her. Is that clear?"

"Yes, General," Poe says under his breath, looking none too pleased. Karé looks ready to start flipping tables and yelling but her white knuckles show that she's barely abstaining. Finn nods.

L'ulo speaks now. "General," he says calmly. "Do you require assistance alerting the intelligence units?"

"Yes, that would be much appreciated. Captain Wexley, Lieutenant Muva, if you would assist him as well. Commander Dameron, Finn, and Lieutenant Kun, please alert the others of the news." General Organa turns away from them all. "Dismissed."

* * *

Before the end of the night, everyone knows about Pava's capture. Karé's been snapping at anyone who even looks at her funny, and Snap's taken to biting his fingernails out of worry. Oddy and L'ulo haven't been seen since the general had asked them to help her alert the intelligence units. Soon, everyone's been alerted, and the commanding officers finally get sick of everyone talking in the mess hall in low voices and order everyone to go to bed. Tensions have been rising ever since the news had broken out, and everyone files away rather easily.

Finn lies awake in his quarters, still steaming mad over his confrontation with Captain Markus Dinoa an hour earlier. Dinoa had been spouting off his insistence to the entire mess hall that it had been Finn's fault that Pava had been captured, that Finn had alerted the First Order of Pava's mission, and if General Organa had any sense Finn should be launched into space to rot. Finn's never taken someone slandering his name well before and it had made no sense to break tradition. He'd managed to get off a punch to Dinoa's jaw before they'd been pulled off each other and sent to bed.

He can't stop thinking. He can't stop thinking of the 'what ifs'. What if Dinoa had been right? What if it _had_ been his fault? BB-8's got a piece of a very important map and is wandering around on Jakku all alone. Pava's kidnapped and most likely being tortured on Starkiller Base far away from here right at this second and he can't stand the thought. She may be Resistance, someone that he's been conditioned since birth to hate, but Finn's got enough sense inside him to know that she doesn't deserve torture. She needs to be rescued as quickly as possible.

He'll rescue her. The thought surprises him but the longer he thinks it the more he's certain that it's right. He'll get Poe or Snap or even Karé to fly him, they'll go to Jakku and go from there. If Finn knows Kylo Ren at all, Starkiller Base probably has not moved far since Pava's kidnapping. He'll do it. He'll prove he can be trusted.

The First Order won't like what he's about to do, but he is surprised to find how little he cares.

He gets off his cot and goes to his dresser, where he pulls out a pair of trousers and a shirt and puts them on. Once he's got his combat boots on as well, he makes for the door and gets the surprise of his life when he sees Poe standing frozen on the other side of the door with his fist poised to knock.

"We need to rescue Pava and BB-8," Finn says once he's recovered from shock. "I'm assuming you thought that too."

"You're damn right," Poe answers with a deciding nod. "We'll take a TIE Fighter, enough room for us both—"

"I'll sit be your gunner, I know how to work the guns—"

"—and we can be in Jakku by morning and find BB-8—"

"—then we can find Pava from there."

"Perfect."

Sneaking out is almost easier than back when he'd snuck out of Starkiller Base. No one's on duty guarding Black Squadron's aircrafts when they arrive, thank the Force, so maybe they've arrived at a good moment or there's really no one on shift over here tonight. Poe climbs into the front, Finn into the back, and they both buckle up. He can't help but be reminded of sneaking out all over again with nothing but the navigation box to keep him company.

Hopefully it won't end like that again.

They manage to leave without anyone noticing, and Poe pilots them easily into space, then putting the TIE Fighter on autopilot for a moment so they can talk. "General Organa's going to kill us," he says in a tone of faint surprise, like the thought had never occurred to him. "I should've left a note or something."

Finn can only imagine how that would've gone. _Hi, General. Finn and I left against your orders. Will be back soon with the droid and the map and our missing pilot. Love, Commander Dameron._ "I have a feeling that when we come back with Pava and BB-8 she'll forgive us," he finally says. "How's your wrist, by the way?"

"Fine, fine," Poe says distractedly, directing the TIE Fighter out of the Ileenium System. Only four hours to go, proclaims the clock. "Doesn't hurt me anymore, and I don't see why the General thinks it affects my flying. I can fly through pain."

They discuss injuries and funny stories for another hour, and then they fly in silence while Poe navigates a sudden and violent asteroid belt. When the danger finally passes, it's been another hour, and the Western Reaches are just sliding into view. Not particularly special, Finn has to concur. Just a bunch of asteroids surrounding larger, dusty-colored asteroids.

"Hey," Poe says as they get closer and closer to Jakku, "I've been thinking. How did the First Order find out about Pava's mission?"

Finn swallows the question that he wants to ask ( _do you suspect me too?)_ and says the truth instead. "I don't know," he admits. There's a flicker of light in the distance and he focuses on that. He's somewhat thankful for the fact that they aren't facing each other. The Resistance must have another mole on the inside because Finn hadn't had time to tell them anything. "Kylo Ren has the Force, apparently, so maybe he read someone's mind here. I really don't know."

"You didn't tell him," says Poe. It's not so much a question as it is a statement. He really believes that Finn never told the First Order anything. It's somewhat gratifying.

"No," Finn answers firmly. "I didn't."

Someone _must_ have, though, he thinks as Jakku comes into sight. That flicker of light keeps getting closer. Someone must have told the First Order and soon, because they'd gotten wind of Pava's mission within a day of it being assigned. Then again, if the First Order had heard of Pava's mission so quickly, what would stop them from hearing of Finn and Poe's rescue mission?

_Nothing. Nothing would stop them._

Finn's eyes widen. He turns around and sees Poe staring directly at him. Both of them have understood the same thing at the same time: if they'd heard of Pava's mission, then they must have heard of their mission somehow too. The First Order must be on their tail by now at least.

Just as Finn gets ready to voice this thought, there's a whistle and a shriek of cannonball against metal, and then they're falling, falling, falling down. Jakku is getting bigger and bigger and Poe is furiously hammering at the controls of the TIE Fighter while Finn fires into the distance in hopes of getting whatever First Order ship that had shot at them. The TIE Fighter sparks and smokes, spiraling out of control as it careens toward the surface.

"We have to drop out!"

"Go, you go!" Poe yells over the multiple screeches of every machine in the TIE Fighter failing at once. Finn can see tiny villages from this height. "I can fix this—"

"I'm not going to just leave you—"

"You have to! If you stay here we'll both die!" For a second there's nothing but silence choking them. "Trust me, Finn, I can fix it. You have to get out now. _Go_!"

Finn takes one final look at Poe, typing quickly on one of the keyboards with one hand and flying the TIE Fighter jerkily with the other. His hair's mussed, his eyes are wild, and the collar of his jacket is askew. He will fix it. Poe can fix anything. He's the best pilot in the Resistance. He'll be able do it.

Before he changes his mind, he pushes the red button on the armrest of his chair, and the air is punched from his lungs as he goes flying out of the TIE Fighter, leaving Poe and the wailing monitors and machines behind. The stench of burning metal is acrid in his nostrils and the air is getting thinner and thinner.

He manages to get one final glimpse of the falling aircraft before he is forced unconscious.


	4. Chapter 4

_The first thing Finn sees is Pava's blood._

_It's everywhere, trickling from a long gash above her left eyebrow, clumping her hair together, leaking from a broken nose. She's been tortured, he realizes, and when he looks down in shock he sees that she's been shackled to the chair. He tries to call her name, to get her to wake up, but his lips won't form the words. It's like they've been glued together._

_She wakes slowly, and then all at once: coming into consciousness with an almost audible snap. Her eyes are groggy but they quickly widen. Finn turns around and almost trips over his own two feet because Kylo Ren is staring directly at him. No—he's staring_ through _Finn, right at Pava, who looks hurt and broken and terrified and if Finn listens closely, he can hear her praying under her breath for help. When he hears her say Karé's name, he bites his lip to keep the tears from coming._

_"I had no idea we had one of General Organa's top pilots on board," Kylo Ren says calmly, as though they're talking over fresh cups of tea. As though he hasn't been torturing Pava. He doesn't address Finn, though. Can the man not see him? Is Finn invisible or something? "Are you comfortable, Captain Pava?"_

_Through chapped lips, she coughs out, "Not really," through a hoarse throat. She sounds like she hasn't had anything to drink in days. Then he recognizes the way she's speaking and feels bile rise. There's blood in her throat. She's speaking around the blood in her throat._

_"I'm impressed with you, Captain Pava," Kylo Ren is saying, and Finn makes an effort to tune in again for both his sake and Pava's. "No one's been able to get what you did with the map out of you."_

_When she grins at him, it's bloody and beautiful and Finn kind of wants to hug her for her bravery. "I've been told I can be particularly stubborn."_

_"So I see," says Kylo Ren. He's calm. Too calm. It's the kind of calm before a storm, the calm Kylo Ren has about him before he starts destroying equipment with his double-bladed lightsaber. "I've been told the same."_

_"Y'catch more flies with honey than vinegar," Pava says. "Maybe you ought to rethink your technique."_

_Kylo Ren says nothing this time. Instead, he just reaches out to Pava, hand outstretched like he's about to catch something. Pava flinches in her chair and leans as far back as she can. His hand stops an inch away from her face. Finn doesn't know what Kylo Ren is playing at until he sees Pava strain in her chair, her face a mask of agony as Kylo Ren sifts through her memories, examining them in the dimly-lit room._

_The horrible silence is only broken by Kylo Ren saying in a bored tone of voice, "Where is it?"_

_Pava's words are spoken in between horrible, breathless gasps. "The Resistance…will never be intimidated by…by_ you _."_

_Kylo Ren ignores her, raising his hand again. "Where is it?"_

_Pava gasps and chokes down lungfuls of air, tears streaming down her cheeks and mixing with the crusty blood on her face as she screams. Finn lunges for Kylo Ren, desperate to make him stop and leave the girl alone, but just as his hands close around the man's neck he is transported and—_

_Finn stumbles, looking around_ _at his new surroundings, trying to absorb every detail at once. The people around him are running away and he can smell and hear the singe and crackle of blaster bolts flying through the air and landing on their targets. Stormtroopers in pristine white armor run through the crowd and he doesn't know what to do, doesn't know where to go, but then he hears a scream._

 _He whirls around, hands clenching into fists because he knows that voice, he_ knows _it, but he just can't place it. The woman behind the scream lies on the ground, skin around her left shoulder singed and a blaster beside her. One of the Stormtroopers picks up a bundle of thick blue blankets, and Finn feels a jolt go up and down his spine as he figures out that there's a baby wrapped in there. They're taking the baby away from the mother, he realizes. He shoves through the crowd of people, trying to reach the mother, trying to reach the baby, but the people are in his way. "Hey!" he shouts. "HEY!"_

_"Finn," he hears someone say, "These are your first steps."_

* * *

Finn wakes with the grace of two speeders smashing into each other, heart smashing against his ribcage and blood pounding in his ears. There's something strapped to his back, and while he gulps down breath after breath of air, the events of the last few days come back to him all at once: Pava's mission and his talk with General Organa and Pava being captured and him and Poe stealing a TIE Fighter to go and rescue her and—

Poe.

_"We have to drop out!"_

_"Go, you go!" Poe yells over the multiple screeches of every machine in the TIE Fighter failing at once. Finn can see tiny villages from this height. "I can fix this—trust me, Finn, you have to get out. Go!"_

"Poe!" Finn's voice is caked with sand and grit. He pushes himself to his feet with enormous effort, taking a second to look around his surroundings. There are sandy dunes rolling back as far as the eye can see, but over the crest of one he can just see a plume of rising black smoke. His gut churns, remembering Poe's sacrifice. "Poe!"

He scrambles over the massive dune as fast as he can, using his hands and knees to get him there, and he slides down the dune quickly, nearly tumbling in his haste. The TIE Fighter's down there, smoking and on fire, small pieces of shrapnel and debris around it. Force help him. He moves toward the TIE Fighter, fighting past the debris, choking on the smoke. For a second he swears that he sees Poe's arm but it's not, it's just Poe's jacket. He grabs it anyway and tries desperately to find a way in—even a way to look inside—but the smoke and heat make it impossible to see, let alone enter. But he's determined. He's not about to let Poe die in there. "Poe! Poe!"

Suddenly, the ship begins to sink, almost like it's being consumed into quicksand. Finn is slipping in too and he shouts one last time for Poe, begging him to answer, praying that he'll crawl out at any moment, but no one answers.

It becomes clear fast: if Finn doesn't get away, he's going to get sucked in with the remains of the TIE Fighter. Swallowing his fear, he scampers backwards away from the TIE Fighter as it sinks into the sand. A few moments later, it's gone, like it had never been there at all.

Finn's eyes are affixed on the spot where the TIE Fighter once had been. Where Poe had been. "Poe?" he says, horrified. "Poe!"

Out of nowhere, a giant explosion erupts from below, sending sand and debris everywhere and causing Finn to leap backward to avoid being hit. Now there's truly nothing there. If Poe hadn't been killed on impact, then he most certainly must have been killed by now.

Finn sits down with a thud, knees collapsing under him. He's disoriented, scared, exhausted, and defeated—but most of all, he's alone. He's lost the only friend he's ever really had in a matter of seconds. He hadn't been fast enough to save Poe. _Force, Poe, I'm so sorry. I should've gotten there faster. I should have stayed on board with you. I shouldn't have let you get killed on impact or swallowed up by sand or—_

Tears blur his vision and he angrily swipes them aside before he notices the wristband. It's still intact and when he touches it, it seems to be working. He's not sure how he feels about that. Another piece of memory falls back into place with a click. The First Order. They'd been tracking him and Poe. It couldn't have been the fault of a mole in the Resistance because he and Poe hadn't gotten the chance to tell anyone about their idea to save Pava and BB-8. How could Kylo Ren and the First Order have known about their plan?

Lost in thought, he looks a bit further and it slowly occurs to him that he's got Poe's jacket fisted in his hand. It's still smoking but overall seems okay. The last bit of Poe Dameron ever to be seen again. Finn swallows back his sorrow and stares at it for a heartbeat or two. Eventually he pulls it on, leaving it unzipped just as Poe always had. He will make sure that Poe's sacrifice won't be forgotten.

Finn stands, looking out at the miles and miles of sand dunes. He may be stranded on Jakku but the planet is inhabited—he's just got to keep walking until he finds civilization. Once he does, he'll have to find someone who can help him find BB-8. Once he finds BB-8, he'll go back to D'Qar and help General Organa organize a plan to help rescue Pava.

"I'll complete the mission, Poe," he promises to the skies. "I'll get BB-8 and Pava back. I promise."

That being said, all there's left to do is to start walking.

He sets off due north, because his commando training had taught him to walk due north until he could find any sort of civilization. Sweat drips down his back, matting his shirt to his skin. The heat is unlike anything he's ever felt—although back when he'd been a cadet, he'd been trained to withstand any sort of temperature. They'd stuck him in simulations with boiling hot temperatures that had made his hands slip on the handle of his blaster; they'd placed him in simulations with freezing cold temperatures that had chapped his lips and frozen his finger to the trigger. But he doesn't think that any of the simulations had been quite on par with the scorching heat of mid-afternoon Jakku.

His mind wanders while he walks, sand swirling around him. He thinks of his squadmates, of Nines and Zeroes and Slip. He's not too worried about Nines and Zeroes handling his defection—in fact, they're probably both grateful for the extra bed. It's Slip that he's worried about. Slip's the closest thing to a friend that Finn's ever had: they'd known each other since they were fourteen rotations. Slip's going to have to toughen up now that Finn isn't there to keep Nines and Zeroes from messing with him. Despite Slip's track record, Finn can't help but think that he'll be alright. Once he figures out a thing or two, Finn thinks that Slip won't just survive—he'll _flourish_.

The sand and wind swirling around him starts to pick up, and the part of his brain that's not being clouded by dehydration realizes that it must be a sandstorm. Slowly but surely, he takes off Poe's jacket and uses it for shade against the sand and grit flying toward his face. Although he wants nothing more than to just lay down and stop walking, something deep inside of him tells him to keep moving. _It's like that voice told you, Finn_ , he thinks to himself. _These are your first steps. You aren't going to let these be your last ones, are you?_

Exhausted, Finn continues his trek across the endless, sandy nothingness. He thinks of the Resistance base, of his friends. Of Karé, who's probably worried sick about Pava and now has to be worried over him and Poe. Of Oddy and L'ulo, who've probably been up for hours trying to track them down. Of Snap, who's probably in a meeting with General Organa to get her to authorize another rescue mission. Of Pava, all alone up in space and rotting in a torture chamber. Of Poe—no. He forces his mind away from those thoughts. He can't think of Poe now. If he thinks of Poe now, he'll start crying and he's not sure if he'll be able to stop.

"One foot in front of the other," he says, throat parched. It sounds like he's speaking around a mouthful of sandpaper. He tries to channel Captain Phasma's easy authority and says, "Keep it going, FN-2187."

After what seems like hours, he finally makes it up to the edge of a massive dune, sides aching and tongue dry. What little hope he has is quickly fading, but when he looks out into the distance and into the epic valley below, something in his gut loosens from joy. There's an outpost ahead. He's not sure how many miles away it is—it could be anywhere from ten to ten thousand—but there is civilization ahead. He can make it.

He will make it.

* * *

His legs ache, but he keeps moving. His arms ache, but he keeps moving. His lungs burn, but he keeps moving. Even when his legs cannot hold him up any longer, he keeps moving—crawling on his hands and knees, grabbing the sand like it will help push him along. The outpost just looks further away than ever.

His determination hadn't exactly accounted for his body giving out from under him. Finn laughs despite his own despair. He'd promised Poe but he can't do it. He physically can't make it. _Come on, just a little further_ , he tells himself sharply. _Pava and BB-8 are counting on you. You can do it._

There's a grunt and groan of some animal halting, then the sound of quick footsteps against the sand. Whatever's touching Finn isn't human, and it's trying to steal Poe's jacket from him. Finn's grip on the cloth tightens and he pulls it back. "Hey," he tries to shout but it comes out as more of a whisper. "Give it back!"

The alien wrestling him for the jacket says something in a language Finn doesn't understand and continues to try and get the jacket out of Finn's grip. Finn fights back like his life depends on it—he may be half-dead from dehydration and could have a possible concussion from the TIE Fighter crash but he will _not_ let this brute get Poe's jacket. Not while he still has air in his lungs.

"Tal'ama parqual!" Both Finn and the alien stop and go silent. Finn uses up some of his strength to raise his head. There's a girl in front of him, a staff in her hand and wearing an angry expression. Maybe it's the dehydration talking, but Finn thinks that she's the most beautiful person he's ever seen. "Parqual zatana!"

A heartbeat passes and the alien yells something back, threatening the girl. She angrily moves toward the two of them, pulling a knife from the pouch tied to her side. The alien freaks out and yells at the girl again, absolutely pissed off. The girl spits at it and fiercely says, "Noma!"

The alien mutters something under his breath before saying something to the girl in a tone that Finn thinks means _go to hell_ before releasing his grip on Poe's jacket. After another groan in her direction, he returns to his beast—seriously, what the helmet is that? He's never seen one of the those—and heads off into the distance. Probably toward that outpost.

The girl approaches him slowly, almost as though she's afraid of him. As though she's a hunter about to put him out of his misery. "Water," he chokes out, using the last bits of his willpower to do so. She jerks backward in surprise. "Please. Water."

"Who are you?" The girl's voice is beautiful. It soothes him, wrapping him in comfort. Her hand hesitates above the pouch at her side. Finn thinks that she's got a canteen there. "Where did you come from?"

Her tone is an Order, but no matter how much he wants to answer her he can't. Not until he has something to drink. "Water," he whispers, practically begging. "Please."

She groans. Apparently she realizes that she won't be able to get anything out of him until she gives him water, and she unclasps her pouch from her side, pulling out a canteen. She tosses it to him and it lands a foot away from him.

Finn props himself up on his elbows, mind spinning and swirling like that sandstorm from earlier. His hand quivers but he grabs the canteen and tilts it over his mouth. He's never drank anything so quickly in his life—some of the drops spill onto his shirt but he drinks most of it. He stops before the canteen is empty, not wanting to deprive the girl of her hard-earned water. "Thank you," he says. He feels stronger already.

She blinks. "You're welcome," she says carefully. Has she never been thanked before or something? She'd put away her knife while he'd been drinking but she still has her staff. She points it at him threateningly. "Who are you? Where did you come from? I've never seen you before."

He lifts his hands up in a gesture of surrender, Poe's jacket still in his hand. "My name's Finn," he says, unsure of which question she really wants answered first. "I'm from…" He hesitates, not knowing how to answer. Does he say from Starkiller Base or from D'Qar? "I came from D'Qar. My friend and I—our friend was captured by Kylo Ren and we were coming back to rescue her. Our TIE Fighter got shot down." He stops there. He's sure that she can fill in the blanks herself.

Her expression shifts from blasé to sympathy to something that looks like she's impressed. "So you're with the Resistance?"

He swallows. Technically he is, but he'd been sent there as a spy to benefit the First Order in the first place so he isn't sure if he can really call himself that. "Obviously," he answers. "Yes. I am. I'm with the Resistance, yeah." He pulls himself to his feet with effort—the water may have reawakened him but he still feels a little weak. "I am with the Resistance."

The girl lowers her staff and studies him. Finally, she says, "I've never met a Resistance fighter before."

 _You would have loved to meet Poe and Pava. They look far more like Resistance fighters than me._ "Well, uh, this is what we look like. Some of us. Others look different." He has no idea why he's stammering so much and changes the subject. "Listen, have you seen a droid around? He's orange and white, a BB unit." _One of a kind_ , Poe had liked to say. "He's got a map that leads directly to Luke Skywalker and everyone's after it."

Her eyes widen in curiosity. "Luke Skywalker?" She says his name like it's a religion. "I thought he was a myth." Finn shakes his head, knowing exactly what she means. Honestly, sometimes he has trouble believing in Luke Skywalker's existence too. How could a nineteen year old kid have taken down Darth Vader? "I haven't seen a droid, I'm sorry." She hesitates. "The Jawa traders—they scour the desert and come to the Niima Outpost every week to sell whatever goods they've picked up. They could have picked up your droid."

Just the possibility that BB-8 hasn't been left for scrap metal makes Finn feel a little better. Maybe he can complete their mission after all. "When do they come by next?"

"Five days from now," the girl says. Finn swears under his breath. Okay. Five days. He can work with that. He can stay here for five days, that's fine. Then he'll get BB-8 and fly back to D'Qar and organize a rescue mission for Pava. That's fine. "Niima Outpost is that way, stay off Kelvin Ridge, and keep away from the Sinking Fields in the north—you'll drown in sand."

"Wait!" The words fly out of his mouth before he can stop them, and she stops in her tracks. She raises an eyebrow. "Wait—uh. Listen. Can I stay with you?" He doesn't even know why he's asking her this. They just met! "You saved my life from that…that guy and I don't know anyone on the whole planet and—"

"Can't your Resistance friends just come and get you?" the girl asks. It's not a 'no' but she doesn't look too keen to say yes.

Finn winces. "Not exactly. They—Poe and I—we didn't get a chance to tell anyone where we were going before we left." He bites his lip. "There's no one coming for me." That seems to hit her like nothing else had so far. Invigorated, he presses on. "Look, I don't have any credits or anything to trade on me so no one at the Niima Outpost is going to help me. Please. Just until the Jawa traders get here—then BB-8 and I can be out of your hair forever."

She hesitates, looking him up and down. When her eyes lock onto his, he feels a shiver go up and down his spine that has nothing to do with the heat. "Okay," she finally agrees. Finn nearly cries from relief. "But just five days and then you're out of here."

"Thank you!" Finn's never meant that more. He kind of wants to hug her but he thinks that she'll rip his arm off with her teeth if he tries anything. "I'll help you out in any way I can, I promise. I won't just be sitting around doing nothing." He falls into step beside the girl, who seems to be walking toward an old AT-AT. Is that where she lives? That's so cool. He's never even seen one of those, let alone been inside one. "I don't know your name."

She stares at him, eyes widening in surprise. "I'm Rey," she replies.

"Rey," he repeats. For some reason saying her name feels like a breath finally released. He sticks out his hand and the girl shakes it. "I'm Finn. It's nice to meet you, Rey."


	5. Chapter 5

The inside of the AT-AT is not what he'd expected it to look like. Then again, the only pictures of AT-ATs that he's seen were in history lessons about the attack on the Hoth rebel base, and those had only shown solemn-looking Troopers operating the controls. The walls here are covered with hundreds upon hundreds of tally marks, and it kind of makes his heart hurt to look at them even if he doesn't know their purpose. There's a desert flower blooming out of a rusty engine piece in the corner. A stuffed doll wearing twine and a handmade orange Rebellion flight suit sits next to the engine—he has to look away because it reminds him too much of Poe. There's a makeshift mattress in the corner with thin blankets. No windows. A hole in the roof has been blocked with tape. It's lonely and ramshackle and he can't imagine anyone living by themselves here for years on end, but here Rey is.

Rey stands by a kitchen counter, stirring grey powder into milky water in a tin. Finn watches the powder grow into a loaf of cracked bread as Rey moves over to the wok, where pieces of green meat sizzle. The smell makes his mouth water—when was the last time he'd eaten?—but he's not going to ask for her food. After all, there's barely enough for one of them.

Finn sits down on the floor and pulls Poe's jacket—now his jacket, he supposes—closer to himself, and he thinks about Pava. Had his vision of her being tortured by Kylo Ren been real? And his vision of the baby and the woman, what had that been? Who had that voice belonged to? _First steps, that guy was saying something about my first steps. First steps to what?_

"Hey." Finn looks up to see Rey approach him with two plates with equal portions of bread and meat on them. "Take one."

His stomach grumbles and he feels like he's encroaching on her home enough, she doesn't have to give him her food, but his hunger is stronger than his weak protests. "Thank you," he says, taking the plate from her. He doesn't bother to take his time eating and the food is gone in less than a minute. It's all he can do to refrain from licking the plate clean.

Rey's sitting across from him, nibbling at her bread and watching him pensively. She's probably sizing him up, wondering about what he'd said about being in the Resistance. He itches his wrist, trying not to think about how he's long-since due to report to Captain Phasma. But what will he tell her? He doesn't have the map to Luke Skywalker and BB-8 is nowhere to be found.

"So," Finn says, struggling to find some point of conversation to make whatever this is between them less awkward, "what's it like to live here?"

Rey just stops and looks at him. "If there's a bright spot in the galaxy," she finally replies, "you're on the planet that it's farthest from."

Ah. So she does have a sense of humor. That's reassuring. "Fair point," he concedes, liking that they haven't killed each other yet. "Uh, do you have a job?"

"I'm a scavenger." Rey looks down at her plate, sopping up the last bit of grease with her piece of bread. When she speaks up, her voice is a little muffled. "I go through the ruins and bring back scraps in exchange for food." There's a pause while she swallows, then, "What did you do in the Resistance?"

"I was a gunner," he says. If he'd stayed on Starkiller Base he probably have become a gunner and an officer to boot. In the Resistance he'd just gotten started as one for Poe, but he thinks that General Organa would have made him one eventually. "My friend Poe Dameron and I flew together."

"Was this the one who was shot down with you?"

"Yes," Finn says. Now he looks down, throat tightening. Force, he wishes he could have saved him. "I didn't know him long, but he was a good friend."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay." It's not and it probably won't ever be, but he's got to move on eventually and fulfill his mission. In five days he'll find BB-8 and get back to the Ileenium System and then get Pava back. He changes the subject. "Can you exchange scraps for credits?"

Rey nods. "Yes. You have to go through one of the main traders—his name's Unkar Plutt, and he's…" Her lip curls and his estimation of Unkar Plutt lowers significantly. "He'll give you credits if you want them."

"Do you know how many credits it takes to rent a ship?" he asks. "I'm going to need to rent one to get out of here once the Jawa traders come to the Niima Outpost."

Rey's nose scrunches as she thinks of an answer and something loosens in his gut when he looks at her. "Two thousand, maybe," she says. "If you scavenge, you could make that in five days."

Well, then that decides that. "Thanks," he says. "How long have you been scavenging?"

Her face doesn't change but the raw pain in her eyes is so staggering than Finn instantly regrets asking the question. She glances briefly at the tally marks scratched into the wall and he has his answer. She stands up before he can apologize or try to take back his words, and she walks over to the counter and puts her plate away.

"I'm going to head to bed," she says, voice cool and calm but somehow fragile underneath. She gestures and Finn turns around to see another blanket stuffed in the corner. It's a little more threadbare than the ones on Rey's mattress but Finn doesn't care. "Scavenging starts at dawn."

Finn stands up too and walks over to the counter, putting his plate on top of Rey's. By the time he turns around, she's curled up on the mattress with her back to him and the blanket covering her. "Good night," he says. His voice is quiet just in case she's actually asleep but he doubts it.

He grabs the extra blanket from the corner and lies flat on the floor, taking his jacket off to use as a pillow. The coolness of the metal floor seeps through his shirt and feels good against the skin on his back, probably a little sunburned from his day-long walk. His eyes droop and he thinks, _I'll find you, BB-8, I'll find you._ And then he falls asleep.

* * *

_"Where is it?"_

_The voice echoes around the room and Pava weeps, tears trailing down her cheeks. Finn wants to help her but he cannot move, he cannot do anything but stand in the corner and bear witness. Kylo Ren lounges in a chair, his leer visible even through his mask. He's been torturing Pava nonstop._

_"Pava, Jessika. Captain. Serial number 52603204." She sobs through the pain. There is still blood in her throat. She is a captain of the Resistance and she will not break. "Pava, Jessika. Captain—agh!"_

_"Where is it?" It isn't even a question that requires an answer. Kylo Ren seems to think that he will get one sooner rather than later. Now he's just asking for the fun of it. His hand hangs in the air and he tightens his grip on an imaginary object._

_"P-Pava, Jessika—" She chokes, gasping for breath, eyes white in the darkness of the room, and the smell of blood and pus and tears is enough to make him vomit. "Pava—"_

_Kylo Ren's eyes swivel from Pava to Finn, still and shell-shocked in the corner of the interrogation room, and his eyes narrow. He unclenches his hand and while Pava inhales air the way the thirsty gulp down water in the desert, he stands up, stalking toward the corner, and pulls out his lightsaber. The red of the crystals glow brightly in the dark and Kylo Ren swings, anger coloring his yell, and Finn ducks and—_

_"Where is he?"_

_The speaker is a woman. She's clothed in bright colors and even brighter scarves, one wrapped around her head. Her skin is dark, her eyes are light, and her left shoulder is singed and bleeds. She lies on the ground with two people around her, helping her to her feet. "Lie back a moment, lie back," says one of them._

_"I will not lie back! Where is he?"_

_The realization hits him like a punch to the throat. This is the same woman as before; the one whose baby was stole away by the Stormtroopers. He feels memories warring for his attention, swirling and palpable and just out of reach. He knows who this woman is, he swears he does, and yet—_

Finn shoots up, swallowing a lungful of air, and looks around for an opponent to fight. The dream has faded away, leaving him nothing but the feelings it had ignited. He hears a whisper in the background and turns around. Rey is tossing and turning on her mattress, murmuring words that he can't quite make out.

"Rey?" He stands up, walking over to her. Her eyes are squeezed shut. "Rey, it's alright."

"Don't leave." Now that he can make out her words he kind of wishes he couldn't. "Come back…"

Finn moves closer but before he can say or do anything Rey opens her eyes, and _damn_ , she's got the prettiest eyes he's ever seen. Like seriously, he's never thought that the color hazel could be beautiful but on her it is. He wonders if this is the lack of sleep talking because he's never expounded poetic about anyone's eyes before.

Especially eyes that can go from sleepy and confused to enraged in half a second.

And then Finn is on the receiving end of a truly spectacular left hook, which is saying something considering Rey's arm was previously tucked up against her cot. Finn sits down on the floor and blinks up at the ceiling of the AT-AT, and he sort of knows there aren't stars up there but boy are they kind of pretty.

"That was a fantastic punch," he slurs. "I think I'm in love."

Rey's standing over him with her arms crossed over her chest, wearing a glare sharp enough to cut diamond. "What kind of person stands over someone who's trying to sleep? What in the kriffing hell were you thinking?"

Finn's entire face hurts. She punches better than most of the Troopers he's gone hand to hand with. "You were having a nightmare." There's blood in his mouth, and he spits it out on the floor. "Thought I could help."

Rey looks a combination of angry and startled and maybe even flattered. That could just be the stars distorting his vision though. "Oh. I've always had nightmares. I just—" She breaks off with a sigh, like it's too much to explain. He just nods. "I'm sorry for hitting you."

"S'alright. Are you alright?"

She looks like no one's ever asked her that before. "Yeah," she says slowly, like it's obvious. "I'm fine."

"Okay then." Finn hauls himself back up to a standing position and goes back to his jacket and blanket. Most of the stars have dissipated by now and he feels okay. "M'going back to sleep. Good night, Rey."

He's not expecting a reply, which makes it all the more sweeter when she answers. "Good night, Finn."

* * *

Dawn arrives, brightening the inside of the AT-AT like a curtain slowly being pulled back from the darkness. Finn wakes up to Rey fixing her hair, and she nods at him. "Hey," she says, and he nods back at her. He grabs Poe's jacket and puts it on—even if he's in the middle of the desert, the sun's not quite up yet and he'll need protection from a potential sandstorm. "Is your face better?"

He touches it, wincing a little. His cheek feels like it's bruised but really, he's had worse injuries after a fight and they've healed up quickly. This will do the same. "It'll heal up in a few days," he says.

She looks a little relieved. "Oh. Good." She hands him a satchel, which he slings over his shoulder, and stalks out of her home. Finn's half a step behind her. The two of them walk to a nearby speeder, which is a faded red and looks older than General Organa, but it's Rey's so it must work. Sure enough, Rey climbs on board and it starts with a spluttery groan. "You coming?"

Finn startles. "Yeah." He climbs on board, barely fitting on this speeder made for one and holds on tight to Rey's back as they speed off into the distance. They pass sand dune after sand dune, the occasional dwelling visible, and there's the storefronts of the Niima Outpost. Rey drives the speeder past all of that and after about ten minutes, they arrive at their destination.

It's a ship graveyard, old X-Wings and TIE Fighters and AT-ATs strewn about. There are a few other scavengers visible amidst the metal and sand, and they're clearly familiar with Rey judging by their waves in her direction. She jumps off the speeder, pulling her own bag closer. Finn gets off the speeder, doing the same as Rey as to not look out of place.

Rey wraps up her face with gauze, puts on gloves and pulls on a pair of goggles. Next, she unhooks her staff from the side of the speeder and gives it a few practice swings, as though it could have stopped working between now and last night. She looks strong, powerful. "Okay," she says. "I'll take you into that downed Gauntlet Fighter, show you what to look for. Then you can take that TIE Fighter and scavenge yourself."

Finn thinks that's fair. "Okay," he says. "What do I do?"

"First, put on goggles. Sawdust and metal shavings are hard to wash out of your eyes. They're in the satchel." Finn does so and the world turns a tinted shade of orange. "Gloves too. I've had my fair share of infected cuts." Once he puts on the gloves ( a bit small, but they'll do), she continues. "Look for personal affects—Unkar Plutt loves those. And lots of ship parts like the wires, levers, etcetera. If you'd buy it you should take it. We go back to the Niima Outpost at noon to refill our water canteens and at sunset to trade. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Alright. Let's go."

Finn's grateful for the goggles the second he climbs inside the Gauntlet Fighter because Force damn it that is a lot of dust. Rey seems unperturbed and immediately goes off looking for spare parts; she hooks a dangling cable to her belt and starts climbing up the wall. Finn forces himself to stop staring and starts scavenging in the piles around the pilot's seat.

The entire ship seems like it's been looked through several times already, but Finn finds a few things in the dust. There's a holofilm disc (brand new, still encased) stuck under the captain's seat and a few green wires and a few parts that Finn doesn't quite understand but he's seen them used by the Resistance and Starkiller Base mechanics so they must be worth something.

Rey's still up on the wall, stuffing several things into her bag and jumping from ledge to ledge. Finn walks over to her, ready to show her what he's found, and then several things happen all at once.

First, Rey jumps from one ledge to another one that's a lot further away. Second, the cable holding her snaps. Third, Finn's body reacts before his mind does and he leaps forward, arms outstretched. Fourth, she falls into his arms with enough force to make him fall over, but he barely manages to keep upright.

"Hi," he says, unsure of what's happening. He can feel her heart beating through her clothes.

"Hi." Her cheeks are pink. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." He tries to sound flirty and cool like Poe or Zeroes or Nines would in this situation, but instead it comes out more breathless and confused. Brilliant.

There's a few seconds of silence, and then a distant shout makes Rey cough. "Can you put me down?"

"Oh! Um. Yes." He does so and watches her unhook the now-useless remains of the cable from her belt and mutter a curse in the ceiling's direction. She reaches into her satchel and pulls out a canteen of water, taking a swig from it before putting it back. "Find anything good?"

"Yes, actually." She takes out a chunk of wires and metal that Finn can't identify but she seems enthusiastic about it so it must be something good. "A new compressor! Well, barely new, but last time I handed it in to Unkar Plutt he gave me two portions for it. That and the other things should be worth enough for food." She puts it back in her satchel. "What about you?"

Finn opens his bag and shows her. "Holofilm, some wires, and these…things."

She nods in approval. "Unkar Plutt will pay well for the crankshaft and harmonic balancer, but not so much for the pulley." She takes out one of the things—a pulley, apparently—and shows it to him. "See? It's broken."

"Ah." Finn never would have known that without her help but he trusts her judgment. "Right. Thanks."

"You're welcome." She puts the pulley back in his bag and turns away. "C'mon, there's still a lot to do."

By the time the sun fully rises, they've picked the entirety of the Gauntlet Fighter clean. Finn's got a crick in the back of his neck and his hands ache, but he's got a bag full of engine parts and so does Rey and if this keeps up, he'll have enough to get BB-8 back and rent a ship to the Ileenium System in no time. Rey's decided that he's proficient enough to search the nearby TIE Fighter on his own, and she'll be back to check on him at noon so they can refill their canteens.

Finn wastes no time in checking first to make sure that he's alone, which he is, and he holes himself up into a corner where he's sure his voice won't echo. He swipes at the clasp of the wristband and the tiny microphone pops up. "Captain Phasma? Fi—FN-2187 reporting."

There's a buzzing of static for five or so minutes, and just when he's starting to doubt the wristband's functionality after a TIE Fighter crash, Captain Phasma's voice comes through loud and clear. _"Where have you been, FN-2187?"_

"I'm currently stranded on Jakku, Captain," he says. For some reason reporting to his commanding officer feels dirtier now than it ever did. "But in a few days I'll be back at the Resistance base."

_"Hmm."_ She doesn't sound too interested, but then again she never does. Blasé could be her middle name. _"Do you know anything regarding the whereabouts of the map that leads to Luke Skywalker?"_

"I…" He hesitates, feeling like he's betraying Pava. Should he tell the captain or not? Is that a breach of trust? In the end, he decides to go with a half-truth. "I don't know where it is now, Captain, but I know where it'll be in a few days."

Finn can almost _see_ her perking up on the other side of their conversation. _"Good,"_ she says. _"Report back when you obtain it, and we will land to retrieve it and yourself. Is that clear, FN-2187?"_

It feels strange to remember that technically he isn't in the Resistance, that he's a Stormtrooper plant. Will he be able to betray Poe's memory and hand over BB-8 and the map in four days? And what of Pava, being tortured on Starkiller Base for nothing? Or Karé and Oddy and Snap and L'ulo? Now that he knows they aren't faceless murder machines, it's a little harder to think about betraying them.

And what about Rey? She'll hate him if he reveals his true mission for Luke Skywalker's map. He doesn't want to leave and never see her again, even if they've only known each other for a little while.

_"FN-2187, is that clear?"_

His Stormtrooper designation brings him back to the present. "Sorry, Captain," he says. "Bad connection." He feels an odd little thrill for having lied to her, even if it's over something menial. "I understand."

_"Excellent. Over and out."_

Finn stares at the wristband and eventually slides the microphone back underneath the clasp. _Don't chicken out now, buckethead_ , his inner voice says. It sounds a lot like Nines. _You've got a mission to fulfill and you can't just quit because you've gone a little soft. Toughen up._

"Finn?"

He startles and quickly bends down to grab whatever scraps of machinery are near him so he can look like he's been doing something productive instead of betraying the Resistance, and Rey walks into the TIE Fighter. Her satchel looks full to bursting—clearly she's had a productive time in the X-Wing. "Hi," he says, proud of how calm he sounds.

"Hey," she answers. "Ready to refill your canteen?"

"Born ready," is his reply, and he's more surprised than anything when she _laughs_. It's quick and she turns her head away from him so he can't see her reaction, but she'd laughed at his joke. That's new. He shouldn't be so pleased by it but he is. "Let's go."

* * *

By the end of the day, Finn is more than ready to collapse on the floor of Rey's AT-AT and stay there for eternity. He's definitely gotten sunburned and he's sweat all the way through his jacket, but the breeze from his ride on Rey's speeder to Niima Outpost helps cool him off a little. Rey parks near a water trough and takes all of her belongings with her, including her staff. Finn follows her to a stall where they scrub clean their scavenged objects. According to Rey, though, of the ten or so objects he's found only seven of them are really worth giving to Unkar Plutt in exchange for. "You ought to save the rest for portions," Rey tells him. "Having credits is no good unless you've got food too."

They stand in line for ages, waiting behind haggling aliens and elderly scavengers with scraped hands, and then they finally get to the service window. Rey goes first, and a weird blob of an alien sneers down at her. "What do you have for me today?"

"Brand new compressor, four green wires, a Mecanum wheel, and two crankshafts."

"Hm." He looks down at her objects, eyes narrowing slightly. Finn is reminded, strangely enough, of Zeroes when it's his turn to do room inspections. "What you've brought me today is worth…one and a half portions."

Rey does not outwardly react, but Finn can tell that she's angry. "Last time I brought you a compressor it was worth two portions on its own."

"Times change and so do my prices," says Unkar Plutt. Finn hates him. "Deal or no deal?"

Rey exhales. "Deal," she says, and she exchanges the items for one and a half portions. To Finn, she says, "Go on."

Finn steps forward with his objects. "I've got three green wires, two crankshafts, and a harmonic balancer." He'd decided to trade the holofilm for food. "What's that worth in credits?"

"Credits?" Unkar Plutt's loud repetition gathers the attention of almost everyone in line. Apparently no one's asked for credits in a long time, which is exactly what the alien confirms half a second later. "What you've brought me today is worth…four hundred credits." Okay. He'll just have to find more objects tomorrow. "Deal or no deal?"

"Deal," he says, and he exchanges the items for the credits, stuffing them in the pocket of his pants. "I've also got a holofilm I want to trade for portions."

"What holofilm is it?"

Finn can only read Basic (Standard and Non-Standard) and Mando'a, and the cover of the film is in neither of those languages, so he's out of luck. He hands it to Unkar Plutt anyway, and the alien reads it. "Interesting," he says. "This holofilm is worth…one portion. Deal or no deal?"

Judging by Rey's reaction that's pretty good, so he takes the portion. "Deal."

The ride back to the AT-AT is quiet—evidently they're both tired—and once they arrive Rey sets out to teach him how to cook the portions. It's meat and bread, the same as the previous night, but Finn's so hungry after a full day of nonstop scavenging that it doesn't matter.

They eat outside, watching the sun go down over the sandy hills. Finn glances over at Rey, who looks a little enamored with the stars starting to sprinkle themselves over the darkening sky. She's absentmindedly dipping the bread in the leftover meat grease over and over again, and he wonders what's on her mind.

"Thanks for your help today," he tells her. She looks over at him uncomprehendingly. "With the scavenging, I mean. You're really good at what you do."

"Oh." She gives him a small smile that's more valuable than the credits burning a hole in his pocket. "You're welcome."

_Three more days until I fulfill my mission and go back to the First Order_ , Finn thinks. _Three more days._

For once, the thought isn't comforting.


	6. Chapter 6

Finn is a Stormtrooper, and Stormtroopers have many rules.

There are rules about weapons and fraternization and when to kill and when to maim. There are rules about orders and Orders. But perhaps the one rule that everyone knows right down to their bones—whether they're stationed on Starkiller Base or the  _Finalizer_  or the  _Messenger_ —is that Troopers do not disobey Captain Phasma. As the commander of the First Order's Stormtroopers, her word is law and no one dares to question her. It doesn't matter if a Trooper is in sickbay, asleep, on the shitter or on their deathbed—they will do what she asks.

So even though Finn hasn't seen his commanding officer in over three weeks and is currently stranded on Jakku, he drags himself out of sleep to report to her at the crack of dawn. He sits in the sand with his back against the AT-AT, fiddling with his wristband. Niima Outpost is quiet in the distance. Even Rey's still asleep. For some reason guilt churns in his stomach when he thinks about that. Here he is, reporting to his CO while she still thinks that he's part of the Resistance and will return BB-8 and Luke Skywalker's map to General Organa.

Which is why he tries not to think about it.

_"State your name."_

Startled, Finn bangs his head against the AT-AT. Force, how can she sneak up on him when she's not even here? Rubbing the back of his head, he says, "FN-2187 reporting, Captain."

 _"FN-2187."_ Strangely enough, she sounds pleased to hear from him. That's…new. Every time he's reported in so far all she's sounded is mildly inconvenienced.  _"I was just telling General Hux that you would be reporting in any moment."_  He chokes on his spit but passes it off as a cough. The general is listening to this? Why is the general there? _"What do you have to report?"_

"Hello, General," he says automatically. He hears a sniff of acknowledgement—as is common from General Hux—but it could just be the static. Even so, he chooses his next words carefully. "The map to Luke Skywalker will be near my location the day after tomorrow. I plan to retrieve it, report to you and then find a ship and fly to Starkiller Base."

 _"Your plan has merit,"_ says Captain Phasma, which from her is a compliment of the highest magnitude.  _"FN-2187, General Hux plans to broadcast your final report to the Stormtroopers on the base as a way to clear your record. They believe you to be a traitor and we would prefer you not to be accosted upon your return."_

Finn is shocked into silence. Why are they going to do that? Not that he isn't grateful—once he returns he'd prefer not to get beaten up by his squadmates for betraying the First Order—but he has no idea why they'd even care. All he'd expected to come out of this mission was a medal, maybe even a promotion to an officer's position if he was lucky. But this is completely unexpected.

 _Maybe some of them don't think I'm a traitor_ , a voice whispers in the part of his mind not overwhelmed by confusion.  _Maybe they want to broadcast your loyalty to the First Order to silence them into submission._

He immediately disregards that thought—not because it's ridiculous, but because it's too scandalous to think about now. "Yes, Captain," he finally says. "That's…that's fine."

 _"Good."_ She sounds like she and General Hux would have done that even without his approval, but that's no surprise.  _"Over and out."_

Once he's sure the call is over, Finn presses the microphone back into its little case and snaps the clasp of the wristband shut. The metal is warm against his back and there's a nice breeze flowing through the air, but as much as he'd like to sit outside and enjoy the weather, he's still three hundred credits short of renting a ship and needs to rectify that. Reluctantly, he gets to his feet. The sand crunches beneath his boots—that's one thing for sure he won't miss about this planet, the sand; it's coarse and awful and gets everywhere—and he heads back inside.

It's somewhat cooler in here, and he's surprised to see that Rey had gotten up while he'd been outside. "I thought you were still sleeping," he says. His voice is softer than he intends, more of a murmur, really. He wonders if his tone is too telling—though of what, he's not sure—and pushes his thoughts away from that avenue. Clearing his throat, he says, "Did I wake you?"

"No, I woke up on my own." Rey finishes tying her hair back and looks over at him, eyes narrowing slightly like she can see into his mind. "Are you alright?"

Finn startles. "Yeah, why?"

"You look a bit…" She gestures slightly with one hand and eventually decides on, "Strange."

 _Well, my commanding officer just complimented me and I think she and General Hux might be implying that I started an insurgence among the Stormtroopers, but other than that I'm fine._ But he schools his expression, trying to look calm and cool and collected, and says, "I'm fine, Rey. I promise." When he smiles at her, it's genuine enough that she seems to relax a little. "We ought to get started before it gets too hot out, right?"

Her smile is small but it's brighter than the Jakku sun. "Glad to see you're learning," she says, slinging her satchel over her shoulder. "Don't want you to faint like yesterday."

Yesterday had been the hottest day he'd ever experienced, and after nearly six hours of scavenging in the ruins of an even older AT-AT—finding three hundred credits worth of items—he'd felt dizzy and had had to tuck his head between his knees until he could stand upright without falling down. Still, he feels inclined to defend himself against her teasing, good-natured as it is. "I didn't faint."

"Of course not, Finn."

"Hey, cut me a little slack," he protests, but there's no irritation in him, just surprise and happiness. Even if all of this had started off a bit unorthodox, he's glad to have a friend like Rey. "We can't all be as talented as you."

Maybe it's his imagination or a trick of the light, but when she turns her head away from him he thinks that she's hiding a blush. "Thanks," she answers, and her voice is steady enough that he concludes that he must have imagined it. "C'mon, let's get going."

* * *

They're on their way to Niima Outpost after a full day of scavenging when the dust storm comes in out of nowhere, the wind picking up the small particles of sand and swirling them around until the air is too thick and heavy to breathe. Finn's beyond grateful that he's not alone in this storm—he also spares a quick thank you to any deities listening for the invention of goggles, without which he would've probably gone blind by now. The layers of clothing he's got on don't do much to keep the dust swirling in the air from trickling through and onto his body, and the constant shifting of the speeder beneath him isn't helping either.

"We need to find someplace to get out of the storm!" Rey shouts, and even though she's barely two inches away from him, he can barely hear her over the wind. "Otherwise we're going to drown in sand!"

 _Drown in sand, just like Poe did—no, shut up, don't think about him._  Finn keeps a tight grip on the back of Rey's tunic with one hand and points in the distance with the other. "What about the freighter over there?"

"That works!"

It doesn't take them long to reach the freighter—even though the speeder is lagging due to the sand and the wind—and it's older than any freighter Finn's ever seen and looks like it'll fall apart at any moment, but Rey says it'll do and he trusts her. Finn jumps off the speeder and follows Rey around the freighter and climbs inside through a hole that's barely big enough for them. He helps Rey drags the speeder through the hole next and once that's done, Rey is already on her feet moving away while pulling the speeder with her and he follows her.

They finally settle down in a corner, where they're free from the sand (Force, if he never sees kriffing sand again it'll be too soon) and no wind is tearing at them in through the metal, though he can still hear it shrieking outside. Rey slumps down against the wall, her energy entirely spent. After a moment, Finn joins her on the ground. "How long do these things usually last?"

"An hour at most." She draws her knees up to her chest. "And a few minutes at least." A humorless laugh spills out of her. "I hate dust storms."

"Don't blame you there," Finn says. He wonders if he should put his arm around her. "The—uh, the sand is terrible. I'll probably be coughing it up for the next few months or something."

Rey snorts. "The sand isn't bad. I've…well, I've gotten used to it." She sounds so matter-of-fact about it that it breaks his heart a little. "The wind is what bothers me. When I was younger I was terrified of it—I used to stuff my ears with cotton to block it out because I thought it was going to swallow me up." She swallows. "It still freaks me out a little, to be honest."

His mind wanders, picturing Rey alone in her AT-AT with her knees up to chest and trying desperately to block out the shrieking wind and the dust storms. Kriffing hell. "I'm sorry you had to go through that," he says, meaning it more than anything. "I know what it's like to be scared and alone."

She lifts her head up a little. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I—when I was a kid and I messed up, my—the person who looked after me used to shove me in solitary confinement until she was sure that I would behave. And I got so freaked out. Every time she did that I was afraid that she'd forget about me and would leave me in there forever." Force, he hasn't thought about that in ages. He'd hated that damn solitary room so much that he had forced himself to toughen up and never cried or messed up in front of Captain Phasma again, not if he could help it. Only then had he earned her grudging respect.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Rey frowning. "Was this in the Resistance?"

Finn almost chokes on several swear words that bemoan his own stupidity.  _Remember your cover, buckethead,_  he tells himself, though that's getting harder and harder with every passing day. "No," he finally answers. "This was…before."

She seems to accept this as an answer, much to his overwhelming relief. The silence stretches on for several moments before Rey asks, "What's it like in the Resistance?"

And Force help him, now he's catapulted back into his memories of his two weeks in the Resistance, of Poe asking him what it had been like to be a Stormtrooper and him asking in return what it was like to be in the Resistance.  _Hard sometimes, hard like you wouldn't believe, and a lot of work, but it's…satisfying._  "It was hard," he says. "I didn't really fit in—I was…different from everyone else. But the others in the squadron I was with were friendly to me and helped me, well, fit in a bit more. It was hard work 'cause we always had to be up early and went to bed super late and…" He searches for the right words without giving too much away. "And, uh, sometimes it was hard to do what was right." There. That's good. "But it's satisfying. It's a good place to be."

She leans back against the wall, her gaze far away like she's imagining this. "What were the people in your squadron like?"

This brings a smile to his face. "Crazy. They're fun, don't get me wrong, but they're crazy. Poe Dameron," and he's surprised that it doesn't hurt as much to think about his friend now, "was my first friend there. He was really headstrong and sometimes people thought he was arrogant but he wasn't, he was just confident and he was always willing to do whatever it took to complete a mission, even lie—but he was a horrible liar." Finn snickers, remembering Poe trying to lie to Karé about her flight suit's whereabouts and failing miserably.

Rey's smiling now too. "He sounds like a good man."

"That he was," he says with a firm nod. "Let's see. Snap Wexley. He's even more stubborn than Poe but he's really smart, and he tends to make really bad jokes. We ended up throwing things at him at mealtimes to get him to shut up. Oddy Muva is our technician and he's kind of a stick in the mud but he's cool, and he hangs out a lot with L'ulo, who helps General Organa in intelligence. Karé Kun is less impulsive, she's kind of the mom of the group—always making sure that none of us got into trouble. But she knows how to have fun, that's for sure. She taught me a thing or two about flying. And Jessika Pava was Poe's second in command—"

"Was? What happened to her?"

It takes him a few seconds to formulate an explanation. "Our intelligence tracked down a man who had the last piece of the map to Luke Skywalker. His name was Lor San Tekka, and he actually didn't live too far away from here. Poe broke his wrist,"  _because of me_ , "so he couldn't go to retrieve the map and General Organa sent Pava and BB-8 instead. But then Kylo Ren—you know who Kylo Ren is, right?"

"It'd be hard not to," Rey says dryly. "He's the main guy in charge of the First Order, right?"

Finn holds up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Just making sure, no harm intended. But Kylo Ren ended up showing up with a whole bunch of Stormtroopers and killed Lor San Tekka, and Pava tried to shoot him but she got captured. She managed to give BB-8 the piece of the map, though, and now…well, he's probably with the Jawa traders now."

"Do you know if Pava's alive?"

He thinks of his visions—or had they just been extremely vivid dreams?—and has to shove down his revulsion at the image of Pava being tortured for information by Kylo Ren regarding the map. "I hope so. Me and Poe snuck out the night we saw her get captured. We were going to break into Starkiller Base and rescue her and then go and find BB-8 and the map, but…"

"But then you and Poe got shot down."

"Right."

Rey picks at her tunic, brushing off bits of sand with such an intense look of concentration that his breath briefly catches in his lungs.

"You'd like it, you know," Finn says. Rey looks over at him, eyes narrowing in confusion. "The Resistance. You know your way around all of these freighters and X-Wings and I know you're a good mechanic. And you're…"  _Smart and witty and generous and willing to help people in need and if they don't like you then there's something wrong with them._  But he doesn't say that. He can't. Instead he says, "If you left Jakku and joined us—" When had he become part of an us? Of a group? "—then I know you'd fit right in."

Rey looks down again. "Maybe," she concedes. "But I can't leave."

For some reason this revelation makes his heart beat faster. "Why?" The second he says it he regrets it. This time he thinks for sure that he's pushed her too far, that she'll put her walls back up and he'll never see this vulnerable side of her again. "I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that. Not if you don't want to."

"No, I-I do," Rey says, looking unsure if she really does. "I've been on Jakku since I was five. My family—I know I had one, or at least I remember glimpses of one—left me here with Unkar Plutt. They had to, even if I don't remember why. And I can't leave because I—because if they come back and I'm not here, then…" She stops talking for a second, as though she's composing herself. "And that's why I can't leave."

There's silence between them again, and this time it goes on for so long that all Finn can hear is his heart thudding in his chest. "I understand," he says. "I never knew my family and if there was some way I could see them again…" His voice trails off into nothingness.

Had he ever had a family, a real one with parents and siblings? Captain Phasma had always stated that all the kids who are absorbed into the Stormtrooper program are given up willingly by their parents at birth, and that the Order has official documentation to prove this. The Stormtroopers had never been allowed to publicly question this—those who had had always vanished—but the topic of family always comes and goes in private. Nines had never talked about it, but Slip had every once in a while, as did Zeroes. Finn never had, mostly because he hadn't wanted to miss something he'd never known. But now that he thinks about it, he can't quite believe the Order could front an entire army with kids whose parents had given them up to that life and agreed to never see them again.

Maybe he hadn't willingly been given up at all. Maybe he had been taken away from a family that had loved him and wanted him, like the woman and her baby in his visions.

If he did have a family, is his family still alive? Does he have a mother or a father that still think about the son they'd lost? And if there is a way that he could see them again, would he take it?

Finn's startled out of his thoughts by Rey hesitantly putting her hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry about your family," she says quietly.

"It's alright. And, uh, I'm sorry about yours." A self-deprecating chuckle spills out of him. "At least we've got each other, yeah?"

"Yeah." Much to his surprise, she doesn't move her hand away. Her face is less than a foot away from his and the way her eyes look in the dim light of the freighter make him dizzier than yesterday but somehow in a good way. Before he can say something—though what, he's not sure—Rey inhales sharply, removes her hand and stands up. "I think the storm's stopped," she says, and sure enough the wind outside has stopped shrieking. How had he not noticed that before? "We ought to go to Niima and trade what we have before Unkar Plutt closes for the day."

Finn doesn't know why he's disappointed but he is. "Of course," he finally says, standing up as well. "Let's go."

* * *

_The assembly room is dark and massive, but Finn can somehow still make out the necessary details. Hundreds of desks in a stadium arc, focused on a platform. General Hux and Kylo Ren are near the platform, looking up. Finn's blood freezes in his veins when he sees who is addressing them—Supreme Leader Snoke. Not entirely human, nearly twenty-five feet tall, stony grey. Old, wounded, fragile, and powerful, all at the same time. Force Almighty._

_"We will soon have the droid and the map to Skywalker," Hux is saying, and Finn makes himself pay closer attention. "FN-2187 has claimed that he will obtain the droid in less than forty-eight hours."_

_"Your operative had better succeed." Snoke's threat hangs in the air, and Finn is satisfied to see Hux visibly swallow back fear. "If the Resistance gets their hands on the map and Skywalker returns, the new Jedi will rise."_

_"That will not happen, Supreme Leader." Hux straightens infinitesimally. "And once we have the map, I believe that we should utilize our new strategy." Kylo Ren snorts. Snoke's expression does not change but he gestures for Hux to continue. "The weapon. It is nearly ready. The Resistance will no doubt try to locate the map once they know we have it in our possession, and I believe we must use the weapon then. We shall destroy the government that supports the Resistance, the Republic. Without their friends to protect them, the Resistance will be vulnerable, and we will stop them before they can even try to reach Skywalker."_

_Silence. Then, "Leave us, General. If your operative fails, you may begin preparations."_

_Hux looks thrilled, or at least as thrilled as a sociopath can look. "Thank you, Supreme Leader."_

_Horror swells through his body as a grotesque, evil smile grows on Snoke's face, and he starts to backpedal, trying desperately to escape this dream—it is a dream, right? It has to be a dream—and the sound of a scream fills his ears and—_

He shoots awake, grasping at thin strands of memory as his dream fades away into nothing. There had been Snoke, and a weapon, and Kylo Ren and General Hux—yes, that he recalls, but someone had screamed. Had that been in his head?

There's a noise behind him like a small whimper, and his questions are answered. "Rey?" His voice is too loud in the stillness of the AT-AT. "Rey, are you okay?" He gets to his feet and walks over to her side of the room. Her face is buried in her hands and her shoulders are shaking. Hesitantly, he sits down next to her and puts a hand on her shoulder. "Rey?"

"It's fine," she immediately says, and she swipes under her eyes almost angrily, like she doesn't want there to be any evidence left of her weakness. He withdraws his hand. "Just—just a nightmare."

Finn knows all about nightmares—if being a Stormtrooper hasn't scarred him for life, then the memories of what he's had to go through certainly have—and he kind of wants to ask her what she'd been dreaming about but he knows that it's none of his business. "Whatever it was, it's not real." His voice comes out a lot calmer than he'd been expecting. "You're fine. You're safe, Rey. I've got you."

She gulps and wipes away her tears again. Just as Finn is about to get up and let her pull herself together (after all, she clearly wants space), she whispers, "Finn?"

He's instantly on alert. "Yeah?"

"Can you…" Rey inhales sharply, like finishing this sentence is more taxing than spending twelve hours a day scavenging in the ruins of Jakku. "Can you stay with me?"

The answer slips out of him before he even realizes it. "Of course." Not 'maybe', not 'sure', but of course. Of course he'll stay with her. Of course he'll help her get through this. It's a given. And he's strangely okay with that, even if he doesn't know when she had become so important to him.

Finn slides onto the mattress beside her, tucks his arm around her shoulders, and listens to her breathing until they both fall asleep, her hand holding tight to his.


	7. Chapter 7

The sun is beating down hard on his back and he keeps blinking sweat out of his eyes, but Finn's too preoccupied with his mission to care. He and Rey had found a downed VCX-100 light freighter deep in the desert that morning (too close to the Sinking Fields for comfort) and they had immediately set to work picking it apart for scraps. He needs three hundred more credits before he can safely afford a ship to get off the planet and all that that takes is one really important item, like the compressor tangled up in wires and dangling from one of the wings of the freighter. The two of them had decided to get it as a pair—Rey would help Finn climb up and Finn would grab the compressor—and now he's a hundred feet off the ground and scared out of his wits. How Rey had done this for the last fourteen rotations is beyond him.

"Careful!" Rey calls as he inches closer, balancing himself as carefully as he can with one arm outstretched. Still, he shoots her a quick thumbs up as he finally reaches the compressor and sets about untangling it from the wires.

"Out of curiosity," he says over his shoulder, "how much did you say you thought it'd be worth?"

"Three hundred credits for sure."

"And if it falls and breaks into a million pieces?"

Her laugh sounds a bit muffled, like she'd tried to stifle it behind her hand. "Not nearly as much."

"Great." Finn bites his lip hard enough to draw blood. "Awesome." But wire by wire, bit by careful bit, he manages to untangle the compressor until it's left dangling by sheer force of will and three green wires. Wait—oh,  _helmet_. The wires are connected to the compressor.  _Shit_. "Rey, it's still connected to some of the wires."

"Kriff," she curses. "Do you have the hatchet on you?"

With one hand he checks the pocket of his jacket and extricates the hatchet that Rey had given him a few days ago. "Right here." He hopes he doesn't sound as panicked as he feels, but he's very high up off the ground and if this compressor falls then he won't get the credits he needs and he'll be screwed and Captain Phasma will be pissed at him for going over his self-imposed deadline and. Well. He doesn't want to think about that. "Okay. I can do this. Okay."

He leans over the edge of the wing, swallowing vomit as he sees the very far away ground. But his bravery outweighs his fear, so he grabs the compressor and tugs it as far up as it can go. Quickly cutting the wires, he pulls the item to his chest and lets out an incredulous laugh.

Rey sounds a bit panicked. "Did you get it?"

"Yeah," he says, and he turns around to smile at Rey. "Yeah, I've got it."

"Great." She smiles back at him, and he thinks that she's about to say something profound but the sound of groaning metal cuts her off, and her smile fades quickly. "C'mon. I don't think that the wing can take much more strain."

Finn's inclined to agree, and he pulls himself across the wing and back over to her side as fast as he can without falling or losing his grip on the compressor. Once they're both on the ground, only then does he relax. "Well, that was definitely stressful."

"That's an understatement." Rey meets his gaze evenly, and Finn feels something in his stomach that he's been trying to ignore since this morning, where they'd woken up in each other's arms and Rey hadn't pulled away from him, instead smiling sleepily in a way that had been so vulnerable he'd doubted any living person had seen that expression of hers before. There's something different between them now, something that can't be waved away as friendship, and that scares him. "Finn?"

"We still have some time before it gets too dark," he says, instead of voicing his too-complicated thoughts. He kneels, busying himself with placing the compressor in his satchel so he won't meet her eyes. "Want to look over the freighter again before heading back to Niima?"

"Sure."

The inside of the freighter is a lot cooler than outside, thank the Force, and he pulls his jacket tighter around him to fight off the sudden surge of shivers running down his spine. Rey takes off to check out the cockpit, and Finn walks down the slightly tilted hallway with his eyes peeled for scraps. He ends up in front of a locked door with the faint remnants of a name etched into the wood—probably one of the crew's quarters. Curious, he takes a pin out of his pocket (one of the many items that Rey has instructed him to always have on his person), picks the lock on the door and lets himself in.

The first thing he takes in is the dust, how it clogs the air and clings to every object.  _Then again_ , he thinks,  _this room probably hasn't been opened since before the First Order formed._ There's a cot tucked in the corner, its blankets strewn all over the floor. No rug, no bookshelf, no belongings—the room has no personality, nothing like the quarters in the Resistance base. Finn is about to leave when he notices something new: a desk.

The desk is broken and it lies on its side near the opposite end of the room. A few books are littered nearby, shaken roughly enough by the crash to part company with their covers. Finn moves over, sitting down to better sift through the remains. He pockets a screwdriver and a few pieces of sheet metal that need deburring, and then he picks up a cardboard box the size of his old helmet. Inside is a record player, which he hasn't seen in—well, several rotations to be sure. Not since Captain Phasma used one to play First Order propaganda when Finn had been in the Young Cadets.

 _Wonder if this works._  Further inspection of the record player proves that yes, it does work, and there are many songs to choose from. A grin spreads across his face.  _I know Rey said that personal effects are worth a lot, but what if I didn't trade this in?_

"Finn?" Rey's voice carries from outside the room, and Finn quickly puts the record player back in the box, sealing it tight. When she finds him, he's leaning against the wall in what he hopes is the epitome of nonchalance. "You ready to go?"

He hides the box behind his back and nods. "Yeah, let's go."

The ride over to Niima Outpost is slower than normal, but Finn thinks that that's because Rey's speeder isn't used to the strain of an extra person and twice the usual amount of scraps. He's just thankful that the hunk of junk hasn't collapsed underneath them yet. When they get there, the sun is still up, which means that the salvage stations are still open, and he and Rey fight to get a tiny spot at the tables.

Rey scrubs her items clean with a ferocity reserved for a soldier in a life or death battle. Finn watches her, getting lost in the simple moment until a bark from a passing alien underling startles him out of it. "What do you have?" he asks.

She doesn't look up at him, too focused on her work. "Sheet metal, wires, a couple of pulleys, a ratchet, and a pocket oscilloscope from the inside of that freighter." Now she looks up, a small smile playing on her lips. "I owe you one for the suggestion that we go back in there—this'll probably get me a portion on its own."

"Always happy to help," Finn says with a smile of his own. "And by the way, thanks for the help in getting the compressor—I probably would have fallen to my doom without you."

"Anytime," she replies. "I hope that's not all you're giving Unkar Plutt, though. You do need a few portions before you…" She doesn't finish her sentence, but Finn feels guilt panging in his stomach. Leave. He'll leave tomorrow with BB-8 and the map and go back to the First Order and he'll never see Rey again. But—

He stops himself instantly.  _But what? Did you think that you could stay on Jakku with Rey forever? You've got a job, buckethead, and you can't deviate from it even if you want to._  Not for Poe and Pava's sacrifices, not for how he had felt during his short time with the Resistance. Not even for Rey.

"Yeah," he says softly. "I know." He clears his throat. "Hey, uh…so—when the Jawa traders come tomorrow—I know you told me already, but what exactly do I have to do?"

Rey tilts her head to the side. "Well, they'll unload all of their wares for selling and then you have to step up and make a deal one-on-one. For some reason they never ask much for droids, so you'll definitely get a bargain for BB-8. Maybe two hundred credits, but you've got a surplus, right?" Thankfully he does, so he nods. "Okay. So you'll buy your droid, then you'll go to the shipyards and buy a ship to go back to your base." She hesitates. "I, er, I can come with you. If you'd like."

For a crazy moment he thinks that she's offered to leave the planet with him but then it hits him that she's offering to accompany him to the shipyards. "Definitely," he says.

She nods quickly, and then, almost as if she needs to say it as fast as possible otherwise she'll lose her nerve, "This won't be the last time I see you, will it?"

He's disappointed in himself that he can't give her a definite answer. If this mission succeeds and he gets promoted, he'll get shore leave once a year and can use it (no,  _will_  use it) to visit Rey. But it's also likely that the First Order would not approve of him going to visit her. He swallows. "I hope not," is all he can say.

Rey doesn't make further conversation after that. After five more minutes, the two of them walk over to the line for Unkar Plutt's service window. Finn holds the compressor tightly to his chest, thinking  _three hundred credits, I need three hundred credits_  over and over again. Rey counts the items in her arms again, mouthing the numbers to herself as though she's worried that she'd lost something on the way over here.

Unkar Plutt's familiar sneer greets them. "What do you have for me today?" Rey steps forward and lists her items, and Unkar Plutt hems and haws for several seconds before saying rather reluctantly, "What you've brought me today is worth…three portions." Rey's eyes light up and Finn has never been happier to feel so taken aback. Three portions is a  _lot_ , and he knows Rey hasn't gotten more than two portions at a time in weeks. He's so proud of her. "Step off."

She grabs the portions and steps backward, struggling to keep down her smile.

"You. Credits boy." Finn fights the urge to roll his eyes at the nickname. "What do you have for me today?"

He steps forward with his objects. "I've got four calipers and two green wires that I want to trade for portions. What's that worth?"

Unkar Plutt doesn't take more than five seconds to think about it this time. "Half a portion." That's fair, and Finn nods to show his acceptance of the deal. "What else?"

Finn plunks the compressor onto the ledge and feels a sort of perverse pleasure running through his veins as Unkar Plutt's eyes almost pop out of his flabby head. "This compressor, in excellent working condition," he says. "For credits."

"For this…" Unkar Plutt traces the compressor hungrily. "What you've brought me today is worth…four hundred credits." Only Finn's self-control prevents him from jumping into the air and whooping with joy. Four hundred credits. Force Almighty. He's got the money. He did it. He's earned enough for a ship to get off the planet and now he definitely has enough surplus to purchase BB-8 from the Jawa traders tomorrow. "Deal or no deal?"

"Deal," he says quickly, taking the credits and the portions before the alien can change his mind. "Thanks."

He keeps calm until he makes his way over to Rey again, and they both start talking over each other with huge grins on their faces at the same time. "I can't believe you got three portions—"

"—and you got your credits—"

"—all thanks to your suggestion about the compressor—"

"—and your suggestion to go into the freighter again helped me find the oscilloscope." Rey shakes her head fondly. "You did it, Finn."

He did. He has the money for BB-8 and a ship back to Starkiller Base. It had taken him three days but now he has finally accomplished the first part of his mission; it'll all be easier from here.

Then why does the thought of tomorrow fill him with dread?

* * *

Over the last few days, he and Rey have worked out a system in regards to eating. Since there's only one wok, Rey is in charge of cooking the meat while Finn stirs the grey powder and milky water together and waits for them to turn into a loaf of cracked bread. They usually work in companionable silence but now they can't stop talking about the day's accomplishments, and their conversation continues over dinner.

"I have no idea why he gave me so much for that oscilloscope," Rey is saying, the bread and meat in her mouth muffling her words. "I mean, I brought him a nearly brand new monomolecular slicer when I was fifteen and all he gave me was a quarter portion." Finn makes a noise of distaste because Force, what a bastard. "He's impossible to predict, I swear."

"Is he the only one that you can trade with?" Finn asks. "I mean, there's got to be another hardass alien that will trade you scraps for food around here."

Rey snorts. "I wish. No, he's the only one around. Some others have tried to compete against him but he always made them disappear." Judging by the quiet fury in her voice, Finn can assume that these competitors didn't just go on vacation, and it makes him hate Unkar Plutt even more. "I tried to help out the others, but eventually when they shut down I had to face the music and go back to selling scraps to him."

Her last few words make Finn remember his earlier discovery, and he jumps to his feet. "I'll be right back," he says, and he hurries over to his satchel and takes out the cardboard box. Returning to where Rey is sitting, he hides the box behind his back. "I've got something for you."

"What?" Her brows furrow. "For me?"

"Yeah." He takes the record player out of the box and shows it to her. "It's a record player. It plays music and there's a lot of different options and—um. I found it in the freighter today and I thought you…might want to have it. To, er, remember me by."

Rey's mouth is slightly open and for a second he's terrified that she's about to cry, but she just gets to her feet and takes it from his hands. "Thank you, Finn," she says quietly.

"Anytime." His throat is dry all of a sudden. "Do…do you want to try it out?"

Her lips twitch, and just like that the moment between them is broken. "Try it out how?"

"Um." He hadn't thought that he would get this far. "Like…dancing. Do you want to dance with me?"

"I've never danced with anyone before."

"That's okay. Neither have I." He knows how because of a holofilm that Poe and the rest of Black Squadron had insisted on showing him back on D'Qar. The two main leads had finally tracked down a former general from the Galactic Empire and killed him (which had made Finn feel a little awkward) and during the party that the Resistance had thrown, the man had asked the woman to dance with him. It had been very sweet, and Finn could easily tell that the two leads would shift from friends to something more in the future. But dancing is something that two friends can do, and that's what he and Rey are. Friends. So he holds out his hand to Rey and says, "May I have this dance?"

In lieu of answering, she sets the record player on the kitchen counter and meddles with the buttons for a moment. A musician counts to four and the song starts: piano, guitar, drums all at once, fast and exciting and vibrant. He's never heard it before, but he likes it. And when Rey takes his hand and says yes, he likes the song even more.

They begin to dance, tentatively at first, then letting themselves go. He gets lost in the music and his feet stop tripping over each other. Hopping and jumping around while getting closer and closer to each other, they roam around the room and grin and twirl each other around as the songs follow one another and get faster and faster.

A genuine laugh escapes Rey's mouth and she twirls around like she's free from the planet's gravity, free like the air had wrapped her in a hug and scattered her across the starry skies, and Finn cheers her on and claps in rhythm to the song and wonders if it's possible for his heart to grow any larger than it is right now.

What feels like days later, the fast songs stop and something slower starts playing. The singer is crooning about love and the stars, and something new enters the air. This isn't the type of song to dance to in a mad rush. "Can I hold you?" he asks.

Rey swallows and nods.

He guides her hands onto his shoulders and he places his hands loosely on her waist, just like the two leads in that holofilm had done. "Is this okay?"

"Yes," she whispers.

This is a different kind of dancing, Finn thinks. Closer. Intimate. Even better than what that holofilm had portrayed. They move in slow circles around the room and when the song stops they just sway together from side to side. Rey's hands are still on his shoulders and his hands are still on her waist, and neither of them make a move to let go.

They are closer now than they've ever been. Finn's heart drums against his ribs loud enough for her to hear. He can count every one of her eyelashes. And when she smiles at him, caution thrown to the meager wind, it feels like victory after a long campaign, like sleep after a battleprep, like something so glorious and wonderful that it can change the world.

Finn suddenly realizes that he wants to kiss her, and the realization isn't unwelcome but it's kind of terrifying. To kiss her will mean everything, and will make every kiss that had come before her mean nothing at all. Not his first one, maybe not her first one, but the first one that will really matter to him.

Her fingers squeeze his shoulders tightly as he moves forward, the distance between them growing smaller and smaller until it is infinitesimal. The wanting for her clenches around his stomach and his heart, straining up his spine, urging him forward.

There is no steady ground to be had—their capacity to undo each other is limitless.

"Rey," he says.  _Can I?_

"Finn," she murmurs.  _Yes._

And before he can lose the nerve, he kisses her. She tastes like smoke and sand and their kiss is clumsy, but it's sweet and it's real and the magic of the moment makes a shiver go down his spine.

Finn pulls away first, wanting to make sure that she wants this before he continues. "Rey," he says, his voice almost lost on the way out of his throat. "I—that was—do you want—"

"Finn."

He swallows. "Yeah?"

She looks like she's debating whether to grin or start laughing, but she doesn't say anything, just shakes her head for a moment before she cups his face in her hands and kisses him again.

Rey kisses like she wants to slow down time. Her mouth moves against his, slow and languid, and he wants to savor every second. Over and over they kiss, with passion and patience, each willing to learn the other's style. And when they finally pull away from each other for air, Rey actually  _giggles_ , leaning against him so their foreheads are touching. He's smiling so hard that it kind of hurts but he doesn't want to stop.

He loves her. They've only known each other for five days but he loves her. They're both alone in the world but he loves her. And he thinks she loves him too.

But tomorrow he has to leave. The thought causes him to come crashing down from the clouds. Tomorrow the Jawa traders will bring BB-8 and Finn will have to deliver the droid to the First Order and he'll never see Rey again and—

No.

No. He doesn't want that. He wants to fulfill the mission that Poe and Pava had sacrificed themselves for. He's not FN-2187 any longer, he's  _Finn_ , and he wants to do what's right. He won't fight for the First Order anymore.

His wristband feels like a shackle and he wants to throw it into the Sinking Fields and watch it drown in sand but decides against it. If he's going to defect officially, then he wants to tell Captain Phasma to her face. Er, to her helmet. He  _does_  have to report to her tomorrow to discuss his mission, and that means that his defection will be broadcast to all of the Stormtroopers and that—that's crazy to think about. But if he can do the right thing and defect, maybe he ought to offer that option to Slip and Zeroes and Nines and the other troopers as well.

So it's settled. Tomorrow morning, he will defect from the First Order, buy BB-8 off the Jawa traders and take the droid and the map back to D'Qar. And he wants Rey to go with him.

He won't make her. He can't make her. But he has to ask.

"Rey." She glances at him, curiosity in her eyes. "When I…" Finn gathers his courage. "Tomorrow, when I get BB-8 from the Jawa traders and go back to the Resistance base, I want you to go with me."

Rey looks stunned.

"I-I don't want tomorrow to be our goodbye. Not after all that's happened between us. And—and I know why you're still here, how you're waiting for your family, and I understand. I do. I just…" This isn't working. He can't phrase it right. And Rey's expression is inscrutable, even though they're still so close together. "Come with me to the Resistance base to deliver BB-8. Please. And if you don't want to stay, if you want to go back to Jakku once that's done, then I'll take you back there myself and visit you as often as I can." He exhales. "Will you go with me to D'Qar, Rey?"

A second. Two seconds. Finn knows that she's giving it thought so he doesn't press her. After all, it had been kind of a bombshell.

The planes of her face relax, but she doesn't smile. "I don't want tomorrow to be our goodbye either," she finally admits. "I…" She looks down, clearly trying to get her thoughts in order. "You have to understand. Jakku may be awful but it's the last bit of my family I have. It's the one place I know for sure they've been and the one place they…they know that for sure I'm still in. If…if I leave then there's a chance they might never find me."

He's mad at himself for being disappointed by her reply. Of course she wouldn't want to leave, not when her family could still come for her. He wouldn't if he was in her shoes, if his family was still alive. He moves backward, giving her space. "I understand."

Rey nods. "But," and helmet, is she blushing? "I feel like you're…like you're a sign of what could be. Of my future." He has a feeling that even with the last few days taken into account, she's never been this open about her feelings before. "And when I think of leaving Jakku and going with you, I—well, it's a future I want."

Finn refuses to get his hopes up unless she spells it out. "So what do you think?"

"I don't know if I'll stay after dropping off BB-8," Rey says. "But I'll come with you to D'Qar."

"Only if you want to."

She sounds and looks sure. "I want to."

Finn grins, wide and uncontrollable. "Alright."

Wide, uncontrollable, Rey grins back.


End file.
